#thanks to friends for point out the mature content label was on??

[secret-third-thing]

Chapter 1: The Thought that Counts (In Which Nothing Happens)

Eris x OC | Rated E | Read on AO3 | Read on tumblr below the cut

Gianna of Montesere's life is shattered when her family becomes the target of a chilling assassination attempt. Forced into exile at her estranged father's side in the Autumn court, she embarks on a journey that thrusts her into the treacherous depths of Prythian's most perilous family. Amidst the dazzling highs and heart-wrenching lows of cutthroat politics, Gianna discovers an unexpected love in Eris Vanserra that turns her world upside down.

Warnings: Typical violence and scheming, gambling, old-school slut shaming

Read if you like: slow burn, enemies to lovers, political intrigue, worldbuilding, cute dogs

Gianna watched her cousin Ludivine pull wishes from the garden fountain. The dark-haired female stood barefoot near the middle, where four ornate lions were perched on a central pillar, mouths opened wide and spewing out thin streams of water. The female carefully navigated around the creatures, one hand bunching the hem of her purple organza dress so it wouldn't be ruined. Then, humming to herself, Ludivine skimmed her hand across the water and stopped to pick up a coin from the bottom of the fountain. She curled her hand around the metal and held it out, eyes glazing over for a moment.

"They wished for a child," she said with a dreamlike quality to her voice, power rippling around her. Then, when she snapped out of the trance, she gave a haughty laugh and tossed it to the ground beside her.

Gianna's other cousin, Alois, a male several decades older than her and Ludivine, smoothed his hair back and held out a hand, not sparing a glance at his sister's antics. The abandoned coin flew to his fingers before he added it to a growing pile beside him.

"It's rude to read the wishes," he said halfheartedly, turning a page of his book. He had been engrossed in the novel for hours. It took Gianna almost no time at all to realize he had switched the book jacket from a historical text to hide the fact that he was reading yet another erotic novel.

Ludivine threw an accusatory glare at her brother. "Since when have you cared?" she said. She chose another coin and read off the wish. "Good health and a long life. Boring!"

This time she tossed the coin to Gianna, who caught the gleaming piece of gold and added it to her own pile at the table she was sitting.

"It's not like they actually come true," she said, meeting Gianna's eyes and then dunking her hand back into the water to fish out another poor fae's dream.

"It's the thought that counts." Gianna countered with a huff. She would rather die than admit it, but she had come here several times under cover of night to add her own wishes to the hundreds in the fountain's basin. The gardens of the Palace of Splendor were open to everyone, including their subjects, so many fae stopped by to offer their dreams in the hope that the Mother would grant them. So far, none of Gianna's dreams of meeting and falling in love with a prince from a neighboring kingdom had come true, but these things didn't happen overnight.

Gianna shifted uncomfortably in her seat and gazed back at the palace. Tonight may be different, she reminded herself. Tonight was her grandfather's birthday, and royals from across the continent were arriving to celebrate at the palace. The males of Montesere were far too hedonistic for her tastes if her cousin Alois was any indicator. More than once, she had caught him under the influence of mirthroot with multiple females squirming beneath him, equally euphoric and unraveling. If she was being honest, she preferred her males to be more traditional, which earned her endless teasing from both her cousins. Montesere was the one place where fae could live out their desires, and many traveled from other kingdoms so they could indulge. The fact that Gianna actively avoided these activities was unusual, at least according to her family.

"Thinking about your depressing males again?" Ludivine sang from the fountain.

Gianna rolled her eyes. "I'm debating how quickly it'll take for Alois to sneak out of the party and into one of our guest's bed chambers tonight," she lied. Alois snorted and threw a coin across the table at Gianna. Ludivine giggled and stepped out of the fountain into her shoes so she could throw her arms around her older brother.

"Oh, we both know that's not going to happen tonight. Alois is banned from leaving the dancehall without a chaperone." She wiggled her eyebrows and squeezed her brother tightly.

"We all have chaperones," he said, pulling her arm away from where she had it tucked under his chin and around his neck.

"True," Ludivine sighed, "some of us are too fabulously slutty." Gianna didn't disagree. If Alois was indulgent, Lulu was downright obscene, at least from what Gianna had heard secondhand from some of the courtiers.

"At least you're aware," Gianna said, biting back a grin. Her cousins both glared before they all broke out into laughs.

"Don't worry, Gigi," Ludivine said, reaching over to pinch her cousin's cheek. "One day, you will meet a male you like and never close your legs again."

"Lulu!" Gianna leaned over the table to grab at her cousin, but the female ducked out of the way.

"It's true!" she teased.

Gianna fought the urge to tell Ludivine that she was one to talk but saw Alois shaking his head. "If you two are going to have a spat, I will find our uncle instead."

"Fine!" Gianna said, gathering all the coins into a pouch, "We should all go bother him anyway. I haven't seen him since he arrived back here from Prythian." -- They found their uncle sparring with some courtiers at the training fields on the other side of the estate. Gianna hadn't seen him for months, but the time away had suited him. His skin was sunkissed, and freckles bloomed on his face, peppering his nose and cheeks. As Montserre's emissary, Mattheo traveled quite a bit. However, Gianna suspected that the captain of his private boat had more to do with the extended absences than actual work as an emissary.

Today, instead of his usual finery, he wore dirty white stockings tucked into wrinkled pants cuffed just below the knee. He had discarded his embroidered jacket in favor of wearing a simple vest. And despite the aggressive parrying back and forth with his rapier, not a single strand of chestnut hair was out of place.

Gianna watched eagerly while her cousins chatted with her uncle's friends. They were young and rakish like Mattheo, and she would be lying if she hadn't thought about pursuing a relationship with one of the males. But she was far too shy - skittish, as Alois would say. And they were far too forward. As though she were emphasizing Gianna's point, Lulu had lain her head across one of the males' lap, letting him get an obvious eyeful of her cleavage spilling out the top of her dress. He reached down to caress her cousin's waist and murmured something to her.

Gianna rolled her eyes and ignored the jealousy burning in her stomach. She knew the yearning would drive her mad one day, but maybe the Prythian half of her heritage gave her pause. She returned her attention to her uncle, who had gained the advantage in his match.

Mattheo stepped forward once, then back twice, then lunged. He parried a particularly clever jab and, noticing his niece's rapt attention, gave her a goofy wink. He was the youngest of her grandfather's children and the most entertaining. Gianna had fond memories of him watching when she was a child and her mother was away. Together they would traipse around the palace grounds, fighting pretend dragons until she was too tired to keep her eyes open.

Now she saw only him whenever he was between travels, which was far too infrequent as it was. She had asked to go with him once, but her mother declined, leaving no room for discussion. So, for now, she'd settle for hearing her uncle's stories.

Finally, the two males stopped sparring, Mattheo deftly disarming his companion. He handed his rapier to a servant and grabbed a cloth to wipe the sheen from his forehead.

"What brings you three to this part of the estate?" he said.

"Boredom!" Lulu wailed, sitting up and pouting her lips in practiced sadness. "There's simply nothing to do! We've been kicked out until the party."

Mattheo chuckled and patted her head, "Perhaps it is because you three are the root of all trouble for the servants."

Alois cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at their uncle. "Three?"

Their uncle let out a hearty laugh. "Am I to understand that all of you were not responsible for turning one of the guest suites into a gambling den?"

"The one you gladly attended?" Alois replied cooly.

"The one in which I won all your little games?" Mattheo replied with a smirk. Gianna rolled her eyes at them both.

He was right. Nearly a month ago, they had quietly converted a suite into a betting parlor. It had initially been Alois' idea, but the trio had been bored and spent their evenings slowly bringing in and rearranging furniture. Alois was careful to admit only the courtiers he knew were hungry to climb the ranks of court. Lulu had brought in some of her friends to entertain their guests. And Gianna, well, Gianna had played. Card games were her specialty - something that Mattheo had taught her when she had gotten too old to play dragon-hunters anymore. Eventually, their parents caught wind of their endeavors and shut the establishment down only after Mattheo emptied the den funds with his bets.

"You cheated," Alois said. He had been insisting this ever since Mattheo had won every single game the last night the gambling den had been running.

"Perhaps? Or perhaps you aren't as good as you think you are," her uncle replied. Alois shifted and flexed a hand.

Sensing that neither male would back down, Gianna jangled her bag of coins to get their attention.

"How about a rematch at cards?" she said. "We brought coins!"

Thankfully, the tension melted away at her suggestion. Alois backed down and took the bag from his cousin. Mattheo grinned wide and looked back at his friends, still doting on Lulu. One handed her a handkerchief to wipe her false tears.

"We should," he said, "before your cousin charms my friends away."

[ruibaozha]

"Purportedly it’s from an excerpt where Erlang is pretending to be a concubine" sorry for my confusion but was this line supposed to be in response to the screenshot where someone said that "erlang is technically canonically genderfluid"? if so then thank you for answering the question i've had since the day i saw that tweet get posted... considering WHO made that tweet, i had my Doubts™ as to the accuracy of that claim. i know you're primarily a Nezha blog but would you be able to provide a little more context/direct me to where i can find more context abt Erlang pretending to be a concubine?

I must disclose that I do not have positive relationships with anyone featured in those screenshots. There are many reasons, which I will gladly explain in private.

I had to ask a few friends about this, as my expertise isn’t with Er’lang, but this is what I was able to discover. During the opera The Monkey King Er’lang does disguise himself as a widow to trick Sun Wukong which results in an attempted assault of Sun Wukong onto Er’lang. However, during the opera Havoc in Heaven there is a lot of sexual innuendo involved between the two; especially as Sun Wukong has Er’lang straddled by the waist and being hit repeatedly in his rear. It can be read here.

To the best of my knowledge this is the only incident where Er’lang presents himself as a woman, and to the extent of what I know any other cases of this don’t exist. Moreover, the existence of this singular incident doesn’t contribute to the label of “misogynist” and is moreso reflective of the humour and non-serious nature Chinese opera can sometimes be - even if the jokes and gags didn’t age well.

EDIT: Within chapter 54 of Canonization of the Gods Er’lang disguises himself as a Zhou concubine to trick Tu Xingsun, someone who had snuck into the Zhou camp to capture and assassinate King Wu. As detailed below:

I really don’t know why these claims exist or why anyone has chosen to make a problem out of what is, at it’s core, nothing. It’s probably indicative of maturity and ability or lack thereof to consume and criticize media from China that has not undergone any substantial amendments to its contents.

This really feels like a “nothing sandwich” and people scrambling for something to accuse others of for the sake of appearing morally superior — even if the argued point doesn’t actually exist.

[fangswbenefits]

hi love,

a few of my posts were flagged for community guidelines and idk if that affects my followers seeing my other posts. would they be able to see any fics i post or is my account shadow banned? i saw you post about the settings things and thought you may know something about it <3

Hi, friend!

I’m sorry this is also happening to you.

Your account isn’t shadowbanned, but the fics that got flagged will no longer show up in the tags to people who don’t have the maturity settings turned on. It’s set to ‘hide’ by default (thanks a lot, tumblr).

If it’s smut, there’s no point appealing. But I’ve seen some people being successful when it’s fluff getting erroneously flagged and tumblr lifts the label (even though the damage is already done).

It sucks, cause so many casual readers aren’t aware of this and end up missing out on A LOT of content.

I cannot stress enough how important it is to reblog THIS post and let your followers know. They might be able go click on those fics but it will be blurred unless they update their settings.

Sending you a tight hug, cause I know I disheartening this can be 💔

[moonlightdisney]

As of recent, around late 2022 or so, I've been going through a lot of changes in my life. Personality, art style and goals. Whoever I was when I was sweet little "Moonie-Boo", that doesn't seem to fit who I am now! This sounds really edgy and I don't blame you. Nah, I just think I have matured a lot since the start of 2022. My art is completely different, If you were to compare something I made in January 2022 to now? It's like looking at two different artists! At the same time, my personality has changed a lot too. I am a lot more closed off than I was at the start of that year. I realised I don't really need millions of friends I just need a smaller group of CLOSE friends. I'm much more satisfied with the boundaries and standards I've set. On the other end, I've also been going through a lot of mental stuff as well. I don't want to label it fully as I am not sure what's going on I don't have the money or time to get diagnosed with anything right now so. I've been feeling very lethargic and out of it. The added pressure of a lot of social medias' algorithms further worsening my already bitter and awful mindset. I've been really insecure in my abilities to draw and provide content on all platforms. DeviantArt is probably the easiest to be active on. Instagram kind of intimidates me and the awful art bots (which you might see when i post this) are a real pain. Twitter is already suppressing a lot of artists stuff and I feel like there's no point posting on Twitter anymore in all honesty. I also post on tumblr but that has never done anything for me, it's more of an archive if anything. Furaffinity is alright, though I hardly see myself getting big on there. Derpibooru is also just an archive really, nothing happens there. I even post my art on Amino! Average reactions, usually. It's sad that Amino gives me better results than Twitter and Tumblr combined. Online art is hard. I am not giving up, by any means. But I don't want to push myself as hard, as it's been giving me major anxiety and really, I don't need anymore of that. On a more positive note, I am REALLY proud of this! I put my love and emotions into this and I was really passionate about this piece. If it doesn't blow up so be it. This is more for me than anything else. Hey if you've read this far, thank you for at least skimming through this word vomit of a description. It means a lot to be heard, now more than ever. If you wish to help me further, please consider sharing my posts and journals about my commissions! Times have been tough recently with grocery prices and bills as well, as a disabled artist it's really hard to balance all this at once and make it day by day. Sharing does help a lot and I really appreciate your time :)

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Derpibooru | NOTE | No my art is NOT free to repost on any site for any reason. The algorithm favours most reposts over the originals and I work very hard on my art! If you are to see any of my art on a page that is NOT my own, please link it to me ASAP.

[snelbz]

Every Other Weekend {1}

Summary: Rowan was just looking for a night of fun after his divorce. Aelin was looking for one last reckless moment before selling her soul to her everyday grind of 9-5. Neither had any idea of just how much one night could change somebody’s life.

Warnings: Mature content throughout. Language, sex, drinking, etc. Explicitly NSFW will be labelled at the beginning of chapters containing NSFW content. 

A collab with @theladyofdeath

Rowan slammed the door of his car so loudly that he was certain it alarmed the neighbors.

He didn’t care, though.

They weren’t his neighbors.

Forgetting to look behind him, he put his car in reverse and hauled ass out of her driveway, thankfully not hitting anyone or anything as he sped down the road and out of her neighborhood.

He should care for her, even if only a little bit, should have a minuscule ounce of respect for her, but he didn’t. His ex-wife was the worst of the worst and the only good thing that had ever come out of their relationship was just left at the bitch’s house.

Rowan felt sick every time he had to leave his son there, but by law, he had to every other weekend. 

And if nothing else, Rowan obeyed the law.

With the exception of now, when he was driving fifteen over the speed limit.

His phone vibrated from where it hung on the dashboard and he slid across the screen, where Lorcan’s name had popped up.

“Where the hell are you?” Lorcan asked, in a way of greeting.

“On my way,” Rowan grumbled. “Had trouble leaving.” 

“Well, hurry up,” Lorcan replied, and Rowan knew he’d be asking for all the details as soon as he arrived. “I’m two drinks in. You’ve got catching up to do.”

It had been a day from Hell itself. He’d had two separate clients that just didn’t show up and the third he’d met with gave him a case he was sure he’d lose, but he’d try his hardest to work with what he had. Then at lunch, his ex-wife had decided she was too busy to come pick their son up, as previously agreed, and now he had to drop him off.

That would have been fine, if he hadn’t already had plans.

That would have been fine, if he hadn’t known she was going to fuck with him in any way she could.

That would have been fine, if her piece of shit boyfriend hadn’t been there to try and start a fight.

It took everything in Rowan to leave Oliver there, only knowing Maeve, regardless of how she treated him, really did love their son.

So instead, Rowan was hauling ass across town, only to end up at a bar that was two blocks from his office, that he should have been at two hours ago.

When he walked in, he shouldn’t have been surprised to find Fenrys on Lorcan’s other side, hitting on a blonde that was so far out of his league, it was commendable that he was even trying.

“Sorry I’m late,” he muttered, sliding onto the stool by Lorcan.

“Nice of you to show up,” he said, throwing a glance over at the back of Fenrys' head.

“You know Maeve,” he grumbled, flagging the bartender down for a whiskey neat. “If she’s not busting my balls or ruining my life, what else would she be doing?”

“Running Hell, I’m sure,” Lorcan muttered. 

Fenrys looked over then and, for the first time, realized that Rowan had arrived. He gave his friend a lopsided grin and nodded towards the blonde. “This is Asterin.” The glaze in Fenrys’ eyes told Rowan that his friend had far more to drink than Lorcan did at this point, which is probably why Fenrys would end up making a fool of himself with such a beautiful, poised woman.

It wasn’t that Fenrys was unattractive. Actually, he was known to be the most attractive of their group of friends. However, he was a sloppy drunk which tended to turn most women off. 

Rowan mustered his best smile at Asterin before thanking the bartender for his drink and taking a giant gulp.

Lorcan watched Rowan do so before asking, “It’s going to be a night of sleeping in your office so you don’t have to drive home drunk, isn’t it?”

Rowan snorted but didn’t correct him. He wasn’t sure yet. 

“So tell me all about it,” Lorcan said, waving for a new drink. “What has the Grand Bitch of Orynth done this time?”

Rowan took another drink before sighing. “I don’t know. She just pisses me off. She already made me mad by changing the schedule, then I get there and that dickwad of a boyfriend of hers is there and telling me how I was late. He literally told me that I was dropping my son off late when I wasn’t even supposed to be dropping him off in the first place. So, naturally, I told him to mind his own fucking business, and do you know what he said to that? You don’t order me around in my own house.” A humorless laugh escaped him. “Apparently, he moved in with Maeve, so now that prick is going to be around my son every other weekend, too. I about kicked his ass. If Maeve hadn’t thrown me out, I would have.” 

“And what did Oliver have to say about your little encounter with his new step-daddy?” Lorcan asked.

Rowan shot him an exasperated look before rubbing his temples. “I’d already told him bye. He was upstairs in his room, unpacking his bag.” 

Because Maeve didn’t have any clothes for him. Rowan always packed a bag, and he always got a bag full of wadded up, dirty clothes back. 

It wasn’t that Maeve couldn’t afford clothes, but in her words, If he’s only here four days a month, what’s the point? You make plenty of money.

Rowan didn’t fight it. At least he knew he would have what he needed if he always packed Oliver’s bag himself. 

After a moment, Lorcan asked, “You know what you need?”

“An ex-wife that’s not a piece of shit?” he mumbled.

“No,” Lorcan said, clapping Rowan on the back. “That’s just wishful thinking. Pointless. You need to get laid.”

Rowan drained his glass and asked for another before saying, “I think a few drinks will do the trick.”

Lorcan, the bad influence he was, was not known for giving up. “When was the last time you got your dick wet?”

Rowan thanked the bartender for his newly filled glass before saying, “Must you talk so inappropriately while we’re out in public?”

“You talk far worse,” Lorcan noted. “At least, you used to. Now you’re a working father, too classy for us lowlifes.” 

Rowan couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re a pain in the ass. Remind me why we’re friends.”

“Once you’re friends for twenty years, it makes it a little more difficult to get rid of people,” Lorcan said, and leaned on the bartop with his elbows. “I mean it. It’ll do you a little good, getting out there. Even if it’s nothing serious. Remind yourself what it’s like to have fun, for once. Relieves the stress.”

Rowan considered for a moment, but shook his head. “It would complicate things.”

Lorcan rolled his eyes. “It would do the opposite of complicating things. It would take your mind off of how shitty things are for a while.”

Sighing, Rowan tossed the rest of his drink back. “I’m not the kind for hookups. Look at what happened last time.”

Lorcan looked inclined to agree, but Asterin had apparently gone to the bathroom and Fenrys had finally picked up on what they were talking about.

“The last time you hooked up with someone was when you made Ollie?”

Rowan sighed. “Yes, Fen.”

“Wasn’t that like…” He did a quick tally on his fingers. “Five. He’s five. Max is six.”

“Very observant of you. Glad you know how old your own son is, too,” Lorcan replied, pulling the nearly full beer out from in front of him when he wasn’t looking. He slid it down until it was in front of Rowan.

“You didn’t hook up with anyone after?” He persisted, ignoring Lorcan.

“No,” Rowan snapped.

Even Lorcan was surprised. “You haven’t had sex with anyone since your divorce?”

Rowan huffed and drank from Fenrys’ beer bottle, which was now his, thanks to Lorcan. He wouldn’t complain about the free drink. “I’ve been a little busy the past two years, in case you haven’t noticed.” 

“But five years without sex?” Fenrys asked, still oblivious that he was missing a drink. “Two years,” Rowan corrected. “Me and Maeve may have hated one another, but fucking was the only thing we did right in our marriage.”

The rough, sadistic coupling Maeve liked could only be called fucking, Rowan had never made love to her once in their sham of marriage. He hated it, hated that he had to treat her like shit for her to get off, that she wanted to treat him the same way.

Lorcan whistled. “Still. Two years, no sex? No wonder you’re always acting like you’ve got a stick shoved up your ass.”

“I came here to wind down and you two are stressing me out,” Rowan mumbled, and downed the rest of the beer before asking for another whiskey. “I don’t need sex. I’m fine.”

“Tell that to your hand,” Lorcan muttered. “I’m sure it’s raw and tired by now.”

Fenrys grinned but then Asterin was back and he was back to obnoxiously flirting in that drunken way of his. It seemed she was a fan of it if the smiles she gave him were any indication.

Rowan shoved Lorcan so hard that he nearly fell off his barstool. 

The bastard was grinning. “Surely you’ve missed it.”

Rowan didn’t respond. Of course, he missed it. He was a man, he was human. There were very few things more thrilling than being so intimate with another person, and it had been a long, long time. In college, he’d had his fair share of women after he’d lost Lyria, but that ended when he got Maeve pregnant. Two months later, they were at the courthouse signing their marriage certificate, and seven months after that, they were bringing Oliver into the world. 

“Come on,” Lorcan pushed, and turned towards the room, leaning back against the bar. “What about…her?”

Just to humor him, Rowan followed Lorcan’s line of sight and found a beautiful, red-headed woman on the dance floor. She was beautiful, but Rowan just shook his head. “She’s so drunk her boobs are about to come out of her dress.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Lorcan said, before continuing to scan the horizon. He paused and pointed to a girl who’s dark skin was shining under the neon lights at the bar. “Her?”

Rowan sighed and said, “She looks like she’s seventeen, I’m not even sure she’s old enough to be in here.” He continued to look around the bar, his eyes skimming over each person, even if he had no intention of taking any of them home tonight.

“You have to be twenty-one to even get in,” Lorcan defended, but apparently had given up on his hunt for Rowan’s next hookup. He turned and got each of them a new drink, setting Rowan’s in front of him. He gave a dramatic sigh and said, in a voice dripping with sarcasm, “Fine, go home by yourself and continue to be miserable, I guess. Don’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

He smirked and threw a glance to his oldest friend, but he found Rowan staring across the bar, at a group of people sitting around the high top tables, laughing and having a great time.

Rowan said nothing, he didn’t even indicate he’d heard Lorcan speak.

He scooted the glass over a bit more and said, “Here you go, man.”

Rowan was still focused on the table

across the room.

“Ro?” Lorcan tried again, giving him a little nudge.

Blinking, Rowan turned towards his friends. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Lorcan followed where his gaze had been across the room and scoped out the group. “Which one caught your eye? The brunette?”

“No,” he answered. Then added, “None of them. I was just looking around.”

Lorcan studied them more and said, “It was the blonde, wasn’t it?”

Rowan said nothing, just sipped from his glass.

With a look over at Rowan, Lorcan pulled out his wallet and flagged down the bartender again. “See that blonde by the dart boards? He’s buying her another drink. Whatever she’s having.”

He handed cash to the bartender, who smirked, having heard quite a bit of their conversation, before going to fulfill Lorcan’s request.

“Fuck you,” Rowan scoffed, nearly shoving Lorcan off his stool again.

Lorcan drank from his glass and said, “You’re welcome.”

Sighing, Rowan turned to glance back over his shoulder at the table he’d been watching before.

He found a pair of eyes on him, just as they had been from across the bar when he’d been looking before. The bartender appeared then, setting a glass in front of her, and murmured something in the girl’s ear. Rowan watched as the smile on her lips bloomed into a full blown grin.

Her eyes found his again. He knew he should have turned around and pretended Lorcan bought her the drink - which he technically had - but there was something that captivated him from across the room.

Fuck it, he decided. If Lorcan thought he needed to get laid so bad, maybe he would. Lorcan may have been right.

Instead of doing the smart thing, instead of finishing his drink and heading home, Rowan grabbed his whiskey, sipping it, and turned around so he was facing the room, rather than the bar.

Except she was gone.

He tried to pretend not to react to that little fact, but at his confusion, Lorcan was chuckling and nudging Rowan in the ribs. 

His head jerked right and there she was, walking towards him. Her drink was in her hand and she was sipping from it lazily.

Her face had been beautiful, of course. It was what caught his eye in the first place, her beauty, but the dress she wore definitely complimented every inch of her tall, lean body. 

He remembered how to act like a normal human being, barely, as she approached him.

“Hey,” he said, as Lorcan slowly turned away to mind his own business.

“Hey,” she said, her voice cool. She raised her glass. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he said, attempting to lounge against the bar in a smooth, no-stick-up-the-ass kind of way. “Looked like you needed another.”

“I like a man that pays attention,” she agreed. “I’m Aelin.”

“Rowan,” he said, and hated himself for already being so turned on. Two years without sex and she was by far the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

She grinned, like she could read every thought that crossed his mind. Inclining her head towards the open stool next to him, she asked, “Is that seat taken?”

“What about your friends?” He asked, and then cursed himself for even caring.

Looking over at them over his shoulder, Aelin shrugged and sat down on the stool next to him. “They’re big kids, I think they can handle themselves,” she said, stirring her drink as she sat it down on the bar in front of them. “Besides, I think I’d rather be over here.”

Aelin smiled and he swore, she was somehow even more beautiful up close.

“I like you over here, too,” Rowan replied, finishing off his whiskey. “I’ve never seen you in here before.”

“And this is your go-to spot?” She asked, looking up at him. He nodded and she explained, “I actually just moved back into the city. My family moved to Adarlan when I was fifteen.”

“You made friends fast,” Rowan replied, looking back at the group she’d left. He resisted the urge to look over at his own friends. All two of them.

Her laughter washed over him and he looked back at her, finding those unique eyes on him. “I kept in touch while I was in Rifthold. Easy to make friends when you already have them.”

“That’s fair.” He found himself wanting to touch her, wanting to put his hands on her. He could only think of one way he could do that without seeming like a creep. “Would you maybe want to dance?”

Aelin glanced at the dance floor before setting her drink down. “Sure.”

He took her hand and swept her onto the floor as the live band played. Typically, he wouldn’t dance at all, but he needed to feel her curves under his hands. Thankfully, dancing with her was easy.

Their bodies moved together to the beat, and at one point her hands fell from his shoulders to his chest. Her palms pressed flat against him had him pulling her closer.

When the first song finished, they continued to the next, and the next, and then Rowan was leaning down and whispering into her ear, “Want to get some fresh air?”

It was not an original line, but it was one that did not leave any room for curiosity about what he was thinking, what he was intending. 

Her eyes lit up as she nodded. “I could use some fresh air.”

Her tone was playful, but her steps were quick as she took his hand and they made their way to one of the back doors that went out to the patio.

It was a warm, summer evening in Orynth, and for that reason, the patio was almost as full as the bar itself. Thanks to Rowan’s height, they were able to find an open spot against the railing.

It was cozy, not that Rowan was complaining.

Aelin reached up and tugged on Rowan’s tie. “Full suit and tie. So fancy. What do you do for fun?”

Rowan opened his mouth to answer but paused. He had been positive she was going to ask what he did for a living and he was about to attempt to make being a lawyer far more exciting than it actually was. The question drew him up short

“Well?” She asked, and tugged on his tie again.

“I…” Rowan was struck with hesitation as he realized he didn’t know what he did for fun. Any and all of his free time went to Oliver, not that he didn’t love it.

Oliver was the best thing that had ever happened to him, regardless of being tied to Maeve for the rest of his life.

“I read,” he said, at last, and scratched his chin. “I hang out with my friends. I don’t know,” he laughed. “What do you do for fun?”

She took a moment to think about it as she watched him, that light in her eyes remaining. “I also hang out with my friends and read,” she said, then added, “I love to read, actually. I hang out with my dog. She’s pretty great. In the summers, I travel a lot. I teach, though, so that takes up most of my time between August and May.”

“Fair enough,” Rowan said. “Teaching, that’s a good profession.”

Aelin nodded. “What do you do, suit and tie?”

Rowan snorted. “Lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” Aelin repeated. “Wow. Impressive.”

Rowan shrugged, knowing full well how impressive it was. Getting his degree had been a pain in the ass, especially supporting Oliver and Maeve, who’d dropped out of college after getting pregnant. He didn’t want to talk about that, though.

“You’re very beautiful,” Rowan said, and brushed her hair back behind her ear. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.”

Aelin rolled her eyes but her cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. “Is this what you tell all the girls you want to take home?”

Rowan arched a brow. “And how do you know I want to take you home?”

“Because you made a point to get me away from your friends.” At Rowan’s blank look, she added,

“No one wants their friends to see them get rejected.”

He blinked. “Does that mean you’re rejecting me?”

Grabbing that tie again, she tugged him down until her lips were crashing against his. After a moment of surprise, Rowan stepped closer, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as his arm slipped around her waist. Her hand tightened on his chest and she tasted like sunshine and honey and the first day of summer.

Pulling back, she asked, “Did that feel rejection?”

Rowan was breathless. “Not at all.”

“Good,” she crooned and took a few steps towards the doors that would lead back into the bar. Rowan stood there, staring like an idiot. Glancing back at him, she gestured for him to follow her. He didn’t need to be told twice.

“I need to tell my friends I’m leaving,” she said, as they paused just inside.

He nodded. “I need to close out my tab.”

“I’ll wait for you out front,” she promised, and grabbed his face, bringing his lips to meet hers.

And just like that, she was gone, leaving Rowan wondering if he’d imagined her.

He found his spot still unoccupied at the bar, most likely due to Lorcan’s constant state of brooding.

“Where’s your new friend?” He asked, sucking on a piece of ice from his glass.

“Saying goodbye to her friends,” Rowan replied as nonchalantly as possible, pulling out his card and handing it to the bartender.

Lorcan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s my boy.”

Rowan chuckled but said nothing more as the bartender handed him back his card, he signed his bill, and was out.

He was the first one outside and for a moment, he thought he may have been getting set up. Then, Aelin walked out the door, a clutch in her hand, and she asked Rowan, “My place or yours?”

Rowan nearly stumbled. “I’m on the other side of town. Where do you live?”

“A few blocks down on Maple,” she replied, and grinned at him as she gestured to the car-filled parking lot. “Please tell me you drove, because I rode with my friends.”

Rowan nodded, taking only a moment to remember what he was about to do, where he was. “Yeah, follow me.”

He led her to his car and opened the passenger door before making his way to his own. She slid in effortlessly, making herself right at home adjusting the radio as he got behind the wheel.

“Don’t like my music?” he asked, putting the car into drive.

“It’s not the 1980s,” she replied, shaking her head and chuckling. It was cute as hell. “You’ve got to listen to something a little more modern.” 

“Modern music is trash,” he mumbled, but let her change the station, nonetheless.

She gave him directions to her house and as they drove they talked about all the different types of music they liked.

Rowan wouldn’t hear that Metallica sucked, and Aelin stood by her love of both Blink-182 and 5 Seconds of Summer. 

“5 Seconds of who?” he asked, as he took a turn onto the street she had ordered him to. 

“Summer,” she laughed. “Seriously? How old are you?”

Rowan grinned. “I didn’t think that much older than you, but now I’m getting worried.” 

“Well, I’m twenty-five,” she said. “I feel that should be validated before you walk through my front door.”

“Fair,” Rowan said, and she pointed at her house. “I’m only two years older.”

“Good,” Aelin said, and he could feel her eyes on him as he pulled into her driveway and put his car in park.

“Nice place,” he said, killing the engine.

She laughed, quietly. “You haven’t even seen what it looks like on the inside.”

“I’m going to be honest,” he breathed, reaching across the car and sliding his fingers into her hair at the base of her head, pulling her towards him. “I really couldn’t give a fuck what it looks like inside.”

He kissed her and he swore he heard her whimper softly. She pulled away and said, “Well come see anyways,” before winking at him and opening the car door.

He was out of his own in a matter of seconds.

Admittedly, they were in a nice part of town, not far from his office. Most of the houses were older, had been here for years, but were well maintained. Aelin’s was no different. Summer flowers filled the flower beds and climbing ivy was beneath each window of the two story home. The shutters were painted a cheery, bright blue and she had a porch swing our front, but that was all he got to see before she was taking his hand and tugging him up the front steps.

She unlocked the door and he heard nails clicking on hardwood headed for them. She murmured, “Incoming.”

A golden retriever bounded into the entry way from what he assumed was the living room but froze upon seeing him.

“Come here, say hi,” Aelin said, squatting down into the dog’s level. She was immediately hurrying for her owner. She attacked her with kisses and affection and excitement. “This is Fleetfoot,” she laughed, looking up at Rowan.

Rowan welcomed the dog openly. Or, at least he tried to. 

He had never been a fan of pets. Not because he didn’t like animals, but because he preferred his personal space and pets didn’t seem to grant anyone personal space. 

Nonetheless, he petted Fleetfoot’s head before making his way inside of the house. 

“She’s sweet,” Rowan muttered.

“She’s perfect,” Aelin agreed. As she closed the door behind them, she said, “Make yourself at home.”

Rowan wasn’t sure how to do that, but he nodded, nonetheless. Aelin kicked off her heels and tossed her clutch on her counter before turning to Rowan. “Drink?”

“What do you have?” he asked, meandering into the kitchen.

“Wine,” she said. “Vodka.”

“I’ll have what you’re having,” he conceded. 

“Vodka it is,” she said, grinning as she took two glasses out of the cabinet by the stove. She filled them each halfway with a vodka, splashing in just enough orange juice to make it palatable, and handed one to Rowan. 

Rowan sipped from his glass before saying, “I have to admit that I don’t do this often.”

“Do what?” Aelin asked, although he knew she knew what he was implying. 

Rowan just chuckled and shook his head. “This.” 

“That’s okay,” Aelin said, quietly. “I don’t, either.”

Rowan nodded and before he knew it Aelin was setting her glass down and walking towards him. “Would you like a tour?”

“Sure,” he said, but she was stopping in front of him and he blinked as he looked down at her.

“So this is the kitchen,” she murmured, leaning up on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his again. It was a whisper of a kiss, but it had Rowan craving more. “And I have a few other rooms that I’m pretty sure you couldn’t care less about. But I also have a bedroom. A couple of them, actually, but I have one that’s a little better than the rest. That one’s mine.”

“I care about that one,” he breathed, his hand finding her ass and squeezing. “I definitely care about that one.”

“Then let’s go,” she replied, tugging on his tie once again. She dropped it and took his hand. He followed obediently behind her, doing his best not to stare at the way the dress she was wearing hugged every curve on her body.

The second they entered her room, Aelin turned towards him and started taking off his tie.

“You sure you want to take that off?” He asked as she pulled it loose and it slipped from his collar. “You’ve been enjoying it so far.”

“Something tells me I’ll enjoy what’s beneath far more,” she grinned, starting with the buttons of his white shirt. As more and more of his skin was exposed, her grin grew.

He’d make sure she enjoyed herself.

“I like your tattoos,” she said, rubbing her fingers along the dark ink on his left pectoral. It snaked up his neck and down his arm.

“Thanks,” he said, although he swore his voice hardly worked as she worked on the buttons of his shirt.

“What do they mean?” she asked, her fingers working smoothly as they undid button after button. 

“A lot of things,” he confessed, completely forgetting what each and every one of the marks permanently inked onto his body meant. Didn’t really give a shit either as her lithe fingers danced along the waistband of his pants. His voice was guttural. “Do you have any tattoos?”

“Why don’t you find out?” she asked, quietly, as she pushed the sleeves down his arms and threw his shirt aside.

Once his shirt was tossed in the corner of her room, Aelin took a step back and pulled down the strap of her dress, then the other. Before he knew it, he was looking at Aelin.

All of Aelin.

Her dress was in a pool around her feet and she wore nothing but her bra and panties. 

They were gold, and Rowan couldn’t think of anything other than the fact that Aelin looked fantastic in gold.

From what he could tell, she only had one. Something in script on her ribs. He couldn’t tell what it said, but he also didn’t care at that moment.

She motioned for him to come closer to her, which he happily did. “Do you have any more tattoos?” She asked, glancing down at his slacks. 

He did, one he was not proud of thanks to a night out with Lorcan in college. He had nearly forgotten about the hawk on his ass until now, when she would surely be seeing it. “Unfortunately, that’s for you to find out, too.”

She arched a brow and laughed quietly, but Rowan’s thumb was brushing against the tattoo on her ribs. Her smile faded and her body shuddered as his hands snaked around to the back of her and released her bra.

She’d barely gotten his belt undone before they were on the bed and he was burying himself deep inside of her. 

[bangtansocean]

Sampled: Part One.

Synopsis: Yoongi calls you in for a late night studio session, hoping you will help him finish his latest track.

⏤𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: yoongi x reader

⏤ au: [co-workers, best friend to lovers]

⏤𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: fluff, smut

⏤𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: mature content [18+]

- word count: 2.9k

Content Table: 01 | 02 | 03

click here to go back to master list a/n: This is my first time uploading and writing ff! Hope you guys enjoy this first part! Second part will be uploaded soon :]

“Sure, I’ll be there in five.” You say on the phone as you get out of your bed and reach for your keys.

“Okay sweet, see you soon then.” He replies in a deep voice before he hangs up.

You slide your phone into your pockets and check yourself in the mirror one time before heading out of your apartment. It’s the middle of the night and Yoongi knew you were in bed, so there was no point in changing into something more glamorous. Tonight’s outfit consisted of grey sweatpants, a black crop top, and an over size jacket that looked just fine. You made sure to brush your hair and teeth before heading downstairs and calling a taxi to Hybe Entertainment.

Yoongi and you have been working under the same record label for almost two years. He is the best producer in the company, and you, the best songwriter. Him calling at unholy hours for some help with a song was nothing new, and you were more than happy to work with your favourite coworker and best friend.

You met each other at a concert when you were working with his favorite band. You were helping them write some songs for their upcoming album that was being produced by Yoongi himself. At the concert, you accidentally spilled your beer on him, and between apologies, you became really close friends. However, it wasn’t until a few months after the concert that you received a call from Hybe offering you a job at the company. You were sure Yoongi had something to do with it, but he always denies it when you ask him about it.

Your friendship was a surprise to everyone in the company, including you; since the only thing you can agree on and have in common is music.

Your friendship is based on bickering, mocking and a lot of teasing, to the point where all the artists who work with you both end up thinking you’re dating. In other words, you basically annoy the shit out of each other until one of you caves in on the other’s antics, and even if it looks like a confusing friendship for an outsider, it works perfectly for the both of you. You enjoyed being annoyed by and annoying Yoongi, and you know he feels the same way towards you. You both know when to stop, and make sure to never cross a line and hurt the other. He cares a lot for you and vice versa, checking in on each other every single day, making sure the other is eating properly and taking breaks in between work.

In less than 10 minutes, the car pulls to the side: you are already in front of the main building. You pay the nice old man and thank him for the ride before you quickly walk through the company’s main doors, rushing to the elevator and pressing on the 7th floor button.

Your phone lights up with a text and your eyes linger on the time, it’s almost twelve thirty.

Fuck, Yoongi is going to bitch at me for being late.

You walk out of the elevator and walk towards the very familiar white door that is decorated by a cute cat sticker and a very welcoming mat of a cat showing a middle finger that says ‘fuck off’. You giggle at the new addition to the place, it truly screams ‘this is Yoongi’s studio’.

“Took you long enough.” The door of the Genius Lab opens abruptly in front of you, showing you a very tired and frustrated Yoongi.

“Hi to you too, Yoongi.” you snap back as you roll your eyes to him, making your way inside the studio and setting your bag on his black leather couch. Yoongi closes the door with a sigh and turns around, directing his gaze to you.

“I’m sorry.” He says, his facial expression softening. “Thank you for coming in so late to help me, I really appreciate it.” he grins shyly at you, and you nod in reply to his apology.

“Anytime Yoongs, I’m happy you called me.” you smile back at him. Yoongi’s smile is now bigger, showing you his beautiful gummy smile you haven’t seen in a while. Cute, you think to yourself as he turns around and opens the project on his screen.

“So, this is what I have been working on,” He presses the spacebar on his keyboard and a funky track starts playing through the speakers. He turns to face you shyly for a little while, trying to read your reaction towards his new project.

Its fucking amazing. You are already loving the way everything is connected and plays in harmony. It's a very happy and energetic song, but it still has a very romantic and sweet feeling to it. Yoongi watches you zone out while feeling the music. You are unconsciously tapping your feet to the beat, and moving your head to the melody of the song. He can feel his heart clenching slightly as you close your eyes and smile, diving deeper into the song. Cute, he thinks to himself, so. fucking. cute.

“The track is supposed to be a synth pop inspired by Ariana Grande but the singer’s vocals are not as strong so I had to modify some melodies and give it more of an electro-pop sound...- His voice suddenly brings you back to reality, jumping a little at the sound of his deep tone. He turns around again to face the computer and continues to explain the project to you, but instead of paying much attention, you decide to take this opportunity to check him out.

He is wearing a very cute and smart casual attire; a white oversized shirt and some black skinny jeans that complemented his black beret. He looks hot, you think to yourself as you bite your lip and drift away into your thoughts.

You always found Yoongi attractive. Ever since the beer incident on the concert, you developed a small crush on him. But to be honest, who wouldn’t? Everyone in the company is drooling for him. He’s not only blessed with good looks, but with a big artistic brain and a very mysterious but cute personality that really adds to his charms. It’s impossible not to feel attracted to him, especially when he looks like this at this time of the night.

You find yourself thinking about the night you ‘accidently’ ended up making out with him in this same studio almost a year ago. That night, you guys were working on a R&b song together and couldn’t get into the right vibe to work on the final touches. Because of that, you decided to have a few drinks while listening to some sultry r&b, hoping it would eventually inspire you to finish the song before the sun came out.

“Oh my God, I love this song!” You scream next to Yoongi as you stand up, tumbling a little to the sides as you struggle to find your balance. Acquainted by The Weeknd had started playing through Yoongi’s loud studio speakers.

You had been drinking for over two hours now, six empty bottles of soju standing on the side table next to the couch you were both sitting on before you stood up. Yoongi watches you walk to the center of the studio and stares at you as you start swaying your hips to the song, giving him a nice view of your ass before you turn to face him with a smirk on your face, biting your lips before the first verse starts.

~ baby you’re no good, Cause they warned me about your type girl

I’ve been fucking left and right

Baby you’re no good

Think I fell for you, I fell for you ~

Yoongi sits on the couch, too drunk to even try to stand up and dance with you. Not like he wanted to try either, he preferred watching you dance for him, knowing that getting too close to you in this state is dangerous. He sings the lyrics of the song quietly as his eyes pierce through your clothes, devouring you with his eyes.

You’re swaying your hips slowly as your hands move sensually over your chest, down to your hips and traveling back up to your hair where you start playing with it as you mouth the lyrics of the song with your eyes closed, losing yourself fully to the song.

How can she be so damn cute and hot at the same time? Yoongi feels himself getting hard at the sight of you; his heart skipping a beat when he realises you have been staring at him all this time he has been scanning you with hungry eyes.

The last two hours have been spent drinking and listening to very sexy music. The lighting in Yoongi’s studio has been set from a bright white to a dark blue by you as you sang very sensual and provocative lyrics to each other. With each song that passed, the air in the room got heavier, and the studio was filled with sexual tension coming from the both of you. It seemed like none of you had intentions of acting upon your clear sexual frustration, at least not until Yoongi downed the 7th bottle of Soju before licking his lips and winking at you.

~ You got me putin’ time in

Nobody got me feeling this way

You probably think I’m lying ~

You smile at Yoongi as you slowly make your way towards him, standing right infront of him and tapping his right foot with yours, silently asking him to open his legs so you could stand between them. You can faintly hear him asking you what you were doing, but you’re too lost in the moment to reply. Instead, you place your hand on his now separated knees as you sway your hips side to side, making your way to the floor and coming back up slowly. Once you are standing again, you look down to find Yooni’s grinning at you, satisfied with the view, too.

“Are you trying to seduce me, y/n?” he asks as he sits up on the couch, his face now right in front of your hips. He places his hands on the sides of your thighs as he looks up, meeting with your hungry eyes that are accompanied by a teasing smile plastered on your face.

You lean down, getting closer to his face. His eyes quickly drift to your lips as he licks his, silently waiting for your reply. Your hands find his hair, your fingers tangling on his soft waves as you play with the silky strings, humming at the feeling of his long fingers that softly stroke to your thighs.

“And if I am? What are you going to do about it?” You reply in a whisper, grinning confidently.

Yoongi lifts an eyebrow and looks at you with a questioning face.

“Are you challenging me right now?” His deep and unamused laugh fills the room. You frown at his indifferent reaction, you hoped he would have fallen for your teasing already. “Not sure if it’s working, love.” you move your face back a little to look at him better, is he really rejecting you?

Shit, shit, shit, He panics as he feels you moving away from him. He can tell you are second guessing yourself because of his words, and if he wants to keep you this close, he needs to make sure you understand he wants you just as much as you want him. Hell, he’s sure he is the horniest one between the two, and he is too drunk to suppress his feelings and hide how desperate he is to have you in his arms.

“Y/N.” He wraps his hand on your neck as he carefully squeezes it, choking you slightly as he moves your face closer to his with a grin on his face, his eyes scanning your reaction to his bold act. “come here.”

You smile before moving your hand on top of his increasing the pressure on his hand, making him choke you harder as you moan. He sighs heavily as you move closer to his lips and rest your forehead against his, feeling his breath against our skin as his chest moves up and down violently.

You grab his shoulders before crawling your way onto his lap, his figure now trapped between your legs. You push yourself down, making sure to make friction against his already hard member. Yoongi moans as he tightens his grip on your neck, his other hand grabbing your hips tight before thrusting his erection against your core roughly. You tilt your head back as you moan his name.

“Fuck, you are so hot” He whispers his words as his lips ghost your neck.

You feel your body temperature rise, feeling like you could faint from all the teasing he has been doing and the alcohol you’ve consumed making an effect. You tangle your fingers on his hair again before pulling on it, making him growl against your ear from the sudden tug that makes him face you once again. You can feel his heartbeat beating on his chest violently, and you can feel yourself getting wet by the thought of having his lips against you. You lick your lips as you look him in the eyes.

“Kiss me then.” The loud music makes your voice almost inaudible, and before you lean forward to kiss him instead, you are surprised by Yoongi’s soft lips against yours.

The kiss is short but sweet, too quick for you to really process it. He pulls away as he scans your face for any signs of regret or discomfort, guiding his hand from his neck to your cheek, caressing the skin with the back of his hand. His eyes look darker than ever, a new glistening found in them. You stare back at him with big puppy eyes, scared and confused on the sudden change of heart.

~To say that we're in love is dangerous

But girl I'm so glad we're acquainted~

He smiles at you as he connects your foreheads together. A big sigh of relief escapes his lips and before you can ask, his soft lips crash against yours, this time kissing you passionately. You moan against his lips as you pull him closer to you, kissing him back with just as much eagerness.

-

You mentally slap yourself as you drift your attention back to Yoongi, who is now sitting down on his chair while he is talking about the more technical stuff of the project. You walk towards the mini fridge of the studio and get yourself some water to help you calm down a little. You feel hot and flustered at the thoughts that have invaded your mind in the last few minutes.

It has been almost a year since that happened, and you guys never really talked about that night.

There wasn’t much to talk though, you just made out for the rest of the night until you both fell asleep on the couch together. You remember waking up to Yoongi’s voice, letting you know that the song was finished and that it was best if you both went home to get some proper rest. He walked out of the studio and waited for you downstairs where he already had a taxi pulled over for you. You saw him again that same day at a corporate meeting, and he was acting like nothing had happened between you both, so you decided it was best you did the same.

“In conclusion,” his voice snaps you out of your thoughts again, “I need you to help me find a melody for the pre-choruses and the bridge so I can work on the guitars for those sections.” He turns his chair around to face the couch where you are now sitting with a mouthful of water on your mouth, nodding at his words as you struggle to close the water bottle.

“Here,” the wheels of his chair make a loud sound as he drags himself with it all the way to you. He takes the bottle from your hands and helps you closing it, bowing lightly as a way of thanking him. He looks at you again only to find that you are still holding the water on your cheeks, and he proceeds to laugh at your strange attitude. He slides a hand on the hair string that contours the sides of your face, slowly moving it up to pat you on the head lovingly.

“You should swallow that babes, we don’t want you to choke on my couch now, do we?” He laughs as he drags the chair with his feet back to its initial place, before tapping the chair next to him, inviting you to sit next to him so you can start working on this new song you know nothing about thanks to your stupid and horny brain.

Next ->

[bigilante]

— 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 ❣ 𝕙.𝕠

⌜mature content • minors do not interact⌟

「 contents: mature language + handjob ━━━━━ word count: 2.4k 」

: a.n : hiya! it's been long since i last posted something but here i am! this is my entry for @worldoftom's lolbrosgetsicktoo writing challenge. be gentle with me please, i'm really awkward writing in second person but i really wanted to make this gender-neutral.

: prompt : Harrison injures his right hand. He’s sexually frustrated, and his left hand just isn’t doing the job. Reader notices something is up with her poor roommate, and asks if there’s anything she can do to help. Even though they haven’t been anything more than friends up to this point, reader offers to “give him a hand,” or whatever of her other body parts he likes.

For two weeks Harrison had had his right hand clasped in a splint from taking a rather nasty fall from his skateboard. The night he had come home from the park with his jeans ripped on the knees and his hand clutched to his chest you hadn’t wasted a second to start taking the piss out of him at the clear picture of him eating shit at the skatepark but when he let out a pained groan after trying to take his jacket off your laughter died down and worry settled on the pit of your stomach.

His hand turned out to be badly sprained and well, the next couple of weeks had been spent in him trying to navigate his days with his non-dominant hand and with the initial panic of your roommate hurting himself gone you resumed the lighthearted piss-taking. Although he laughed with you at the jokes you made you could see how it really bugged him that he wasn’t as useful and agile with his right hand being in mandatory rest. “Told you, H. Whatever you have trouble with I can give you a hand.” You reminded him waving both your hands in front of you in a somewhat mocking manner.

“Yeah, heard you the first time.” He grumbled while struggling to button up his dress shirt. “Damn it.” The blonde cursed under his breath when his fingers seemed to not be working properly. That was enough for you to put your cup of tea down on the breakfast bar to walk up to him taking over the task he was growing frustrated with. He sighed defeated, letting his hands drop to his sides allowing you to close his shirt for him.

“Really, Harrison. I don’t mind helping you out.” The reassurance prompted Harrison to nod in understanding, running his fingers through his hair clearly irked by his situation. As if after you repeating it ninety-nine times before hadn’t sunk into his brain until the hundredth. “There you go, all done.” You patted his chest a couple of times then stepped back away from him to grab your mug again watching him leave the flat in a hurry after thanking you. You had been joking about what happened to him but you really felt bad for him, Harrison was a very active and independent guy who rarely asked for help and now that he was close to useless at doing simple tasks you could see how much it troubled him.

In the evening when he returned home he headed directly to the bathroom barely uttering a greeting back when you welcomed him, the sound of the running water splashing around let you know he was running a bath, you sighed at the fact that he had beaten you to run one for yourself though you were still busy making dinner for the both of you you didn’t duel much on it. About thirty minutes had passed since he went in for his bath and you figured it’ll be enough time for him to be about done with it to come out and eat, hence you walking up to the end of the hallway to knock on the door to make him aware that the food was ready.

However, the noise of water splashing a bit too aggressively accompanied by Harrison’s angry cursing made you believe something was wrong. With not much time to think you tried for the door and found it unlocked, swinging it open swiftly. “Are you okay!?” You asked in a panic, eyes wide when you saw the walls dripping and the floor flooded with soapy water. “Are you hurt?” You insisted, daring to step inside the room, bare feet coming in contact with the wet ground making comical splashing sounds.

“Yeah-no. I just…” He frantically tried to gather the few bubbles that floated on the scarcely-filled tub, bringing them closer to his body to cover himself a little.

“You just what, H?” Your voice still held concern and he noticed, finally looking up at you with seemingly pleading eyes. “You need help with your back or what is it?”

“No, y/n.” He huffed, brushing his wet hair back with his splinted hand wincing a little with the action. “This time you really can’t help me, alright? Just, let me get dressed.”

“Harrison, I told you I don’t mind help—” You started but was soon cut by the blonde’s voice rising above his usual level.

“I need a wank! That’s what I need. And my fucking left hand ain’t cutting it anymore.” Harrison blurted out a bit worked up, breathing heavily with cheeks burning hot showing in a bright crimson colour that stood out against his milky skin. Your mouth closed immediately after he acknowledged his problem, a warmth crept up your neck settling comfortably on the apples of your cheeks as your fingers toyed aimlessly with the hem of your oversized bed t-shirt. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, he had thrown his head back on the edge of the tub and covered his eyes with his injured hand while the other was under the water.

The way the muscles of his arm were flexed made the heat of your cheeks travelled to new places that could be labelled as inappropriate. Boldly, you stepped further into the room your steps marked by the sloppy meeting of them with the soaked tiles, not knowing exactly how you conjured the confidence to do so. “I-I don’t mind... helping,” You stuttered out, stopping right by his side. Wide eyes hanging on the young man’s hidden face that was instantly revealed as soon as those words left your lips.

“What!? Don’t be silly, y/n. I could never ask you to do that.” He sat up, making starts to get up but you stopped him by placing a hand on his bare shoulder keeping him inside the tub.

“You’re not asking, I’m offering.” You gave him a sincere smile, irises dancing between his crystal clear ones as you waited for him to accept or decline your proposal. Harrison’s teeth clenched as he swallowed thickly making his jawline look even sharper. When he delayed in giving you an answer you felt as if you had overstepped his boundaries and panic began to invade you fast.

“Okay.” He agreed with a nearly imperceptible wobble in his voice. “But don’t look at it. It’ll make me feel less guilty if you don’t know what it looks like.” The chuckle he let out was nervous and awkward, causing you to match it with one of your own as you nodded your head.

“Okay, I won’t look.” You declared, pressing your lips together before sinking to your knees right beside the bathtub sitting comfortably on your folded legs. Taking in a deep breath you reached for his left forearm with your right hand, eyes focused on the edge of the porcelain trying your best not to look down as you let your hand trail down his arm ultimately meeting his own hand under the lukewarm water. “Let go.” In a soft voice, you requested. Harrison exhaled through his nose prompting you to shift your gaze from the tub to his face, sending him a reassuring nod and a faint smile, those sufficient for him let you hold him inhaling a tad sharply when you did.

With your hand now wrapped around his girth, you started to give him slow and long rubs with a fairly firm grip. Since your eyes were still on him you saw him sigh, momentarily closing his eyes with the first few strokes, his lips pressed together as he breathed through each caress you provided. It was hypnotising seeing him in that way: head thrown back, eyes closed, flushed face, brows pinched together; adding to all of that he was completely naked and splattered with water droplets. Your tongue darted out to wet your suddenly dry lips, swallowing thickly at the scene in front of you, subconsciously your grasp on the man’s erection tightened enough to make him let out an involuntary moan that echoed throughout the tiled room, travelling through your ears and finding a new home deep inside your brain.

Again, —you thought— do it again. You now craved his pleasure noises, with a new goal you lifted yourself from your sitting position back into your knees so you could move your arm at a faster pace, wrist twisting every now and again succeeding at drawing more moans out of your roommate. A whimper left your throat when your arm started to grow tired from the motion and the pressure of the ceramic edge underneath it prompting Harrison’s eyes to shoot open and you swore you felt him twitch against your palm. “S-sorry, my arm got sore.” You let out an embarrassed laugh when your eyes met his, your whole face burning hot.

The aching of your arm combined itself with the soreness of your knees forcing you to stand up and let go of Harrison in the process, with little time to think twice you swung your leg over the edge of the bathtub soon followed by the other before you found a comfortable new position straddling the blonde’s bare thighs. The weight of you coming into the water raised the level of it, permitting it to soak the bottom half of your top, Harrison’s eyes never left your figure as you moved that much closer to him, his stomach was a little sucked in as if he was holding in his breath. “Is this okay?” You quizzed, noting that you sitting on him might be too much.

“Ye-yeah.” He breathed out in a hurry. You proceeded to resume your ministrations now with a better angle and an additional hand to give your right one a minute of rest. The movement of the water around you both and Harrison’s heavy breathing was the only things that could be heard in the bathroom of your quiet flat. The view was intoxicating; chiselled chest heaving, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, jaw slacked, pink lips parted and eyes screw shut. You found it next to impossible to reap your gaze from the guy in front of you, the way he was reacting to your touch was rapidly becoming your favourite thing and you wanted more of him, your thighs tightened over his when he let out a particularly loud moan and you had to blink a few times to try and restore your morality without much success.

“Are you close?” Your voice filled the air around you, it surprised both of you for you didn’t know you had it in you to ask such a question when you were trying to keep your composure in front of the man. Harrison’s eyes were half-opened and on you the second you asked, the intensity of them draw you in closer and closer to his face until your forehead was pressed against his tentatively. Soon his healthy hand was back under the water only this time it landed on your bare thigh gripping it tightly, the simple touch causing your breath to match his ragged one, mixing together from the close proximity of your faces.

“Fuck, don’t stop.” Harrison ordered with a deep groan as his body began to tense up underneath you. You took the cue and doubled your efforts with both your hands subconsciously whispering encouragements eliciting louder moans from him. His poorly hand came up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place —as if you really had the intention to move away— while his high very evidently approached. “Fuck, y/n.” The blue-eyed boy moaned in your face luring a whine out of your throat at the sound of your name being called in such a way.

“Cum for me,” You encouraged him, nudging his nose with yours silently prompting him to look at you, and he did. Hooded eyes fixed on yours mere centimetres away that you could feel his lips ghosting over your own teasingly, warm breath fanning over them. “Harri, c’mon.” A whisper was all you could manage at that moment. Your own throat had grown dry and you had to suppress the mewls that threatened to leave your chest when you started to feel his cock twitching in your hands. A loud grunt got stuck in the man’s throat the moment he toppled over the edge, his length spasming in your grip as you so clearly sensed it unload under the now cool water, the temperature of the liquids contrasting against your skin when his seed landed on your hands as it sank.

Harrison’s body shuddered with each slow stroke you gave him to help him ride his orgasm, moans continued to fall from his parted lips. He swallowed, finally releasing your neck from the clasp to be able to relax back in the tub letting out a long and deep sigh of content. You couldn’t help but feel disappointed the moment he pulled away but it was for the best, you couldn’t be wishing for him to do something for you when you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.

That was when it hit you, the position you were in wasn’t appropriate at all, it didn’t matter how willing you were to be his second self surely giving him manual relief was a step too far. So with overwhelming shame, you let go of him, leaning to the side to take hold of the edge of the tub, pulling yourself up to your feet in a daze. The water that dripped down from your soaked t-shirt far too noisy in your ears as they buzzed with the adrenaline that still coursed through your body, the wet fabric sticking to your skin making you self-aware that it was now see-through so you hurried to the railing stuck to the wall and grabbed one of the towels, quickly wrapping it around your waist.

Embarrassed, you started for the door, holding the doorknob ready to leave the room, “Di-dinner’s ready.” You acknowledged shyly, the tremble in your voice giving your remorse away. You frantically shuffled on your feet stepping out of the room and closing the door behind you. There was a weird feeling in the pits of your stomach, you knew you felt embarrassed of what had just happened yet, that wasn’t it, it was almost like a craving. A craving for his touch and that made the shame feel ten times worse. You marched to your room locking yourself in, forgetting about your dinner plate that was sitting on the kitchen counter, your hunger long gone. Though, despite the mortification, there was a new much problematic sort of appetite tingling deep inside you and the throbbing between your legs made it much too hard to ignore.

【 thank you so much for reading! ♡ please, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought of this piece ♡ 】

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[grimtwin]

Thirsty?

Finally, after three years, I've written something else for Hiei x Botan week! I'm a dreadfully slow writer, and this was meant to be out yesterday but whatever! It's still here and content is content!

Day 1: Desire

Let me know what you think, if you'd be so kind!

Botan swallowed thickly, her mouth dry, and feeling as though the temperature around her had suddenly risen to sweltering degrees. Something which Botan believed to be quite odd considering that it was a lovely Spring afternoon and she was sitting beneath the shade of Genkai’s temple awning, high in the mountains. Yet even still, a bead of sweat trailed it’s way down the length of her neck, dipping beneath her blouse, and Botan began to fan herself with her hand, feeling overheated and flush. It was ever so strange…

A flash of movement in the temple’s courtyard drew her attention, and Botan’s eyes settled onto Hiei and Yusuke standing opposite one another, battered, bruised, and breathing heavily. They had been… “sparring”, as Yusuke called it, training for the upcoming Demon World tournament, but from Botan’s perspective, it looked more like an all-out brawl. And both men could not have looked any more than pleased with themselves if they tried to do so. Botan sighed, shaking her head; she would never understand how they could be so happy to bash one another’s brains out, but she supposed it was just in their combative nature to be proud of their own strength… or more importantly, each other’s. Not that they would ever admit that tidbit out loud of course.

Stifling a giggle at the thought, Botan watched on as Yusuke beckoned Hiei with one hand and faster than she could blink, the pair were at it again, fists flying at blinding speeds she was unable to keep up with visually. “Impressive as always,” Botan thought to herself, waiting for the pair to slow down enough for her to watch once more. From what she has been able to witness over the last few days, it appeared as though Koenma’s concerns could be alleviated in some ways at least.

With the second Demon World tournament forthcoming, tensions in Spirit World were once again at an all time high. The previous tournament’s winner, Enki, had been a benevolent soul, and under his reign, instituted a decree stating demon-kind must leave humanity in peace for the duration of his rule. However, with the very real chance that a new ruler would be crowned in the coming months, panicked whispers had begun to spread throughout Spirit World, terrified that peace between the three realms may crumble with a tyrant in charge, and the Kekkai Barrier no longer standing. And it was for that reason that Koenma had ordered Botan to oversee the former detective’s training; the prince having high hopes that Yusuke could emerge victorious, and maintain the precarious peace between worlds.

It was good news then, that after years of living a quiet life with Keiko and Atsuko in the Human world, Yusuke appeared to be just as strong as he’d ever been! It had taken him a few days to get back into tip-top fighting shape, but it was clear that Yusuke would stand just as good a chance at winning this year's tournament as any of the other known S-Class demons! And Hiei… Botan bit her bottom lip, fingers toying with the hem of her skirt anxiously; he was another matter entirely. Even just seeing him in the Human World after all this time had been wholly unexpected, but he’d arrived at the temple shortly after Yusuke had, set on “warming up” before the tournament started. And after years of continued service under Mukuro while working for the Border Patrol, Hiei had grown in more ways than Botan could have ever imagined. He was always strong of course, but now…

A sudden, thundering crash jolted Botan from her thoughts, and she snapped toward the source in a panic, seeing little more than a billowing cloud of dust and raining debris. After a moment of silence, the smokescreen was swept away by a passing gust, and Botan was surprised to see Yusuke lying flat on his back in the middle of the courtyard, the force of his impact having left an indentation in the ground beneath him. Just as she made to ask Yusuke if he was alright, Hiei dropped down from above, standing in between them and any concerns Botan may have held for Yusuke instantly died on her tongue. Her breath hitched, and goosebumps rose over the skin of her arms and neck as she soaked in the sight standing confidently before her; Hiei was shirtless. At some point during his high-speed duel with Yusuke, Botan could only assume that the sleeveless, powder-blue shirt Hiei had previously been wearing, had gotten torn from his body, the tattered remains clutched limply in Yusuke’s fist at the bottom of his own miniature crater.

“You’ve grown soft over the years Detective,” Hiei taunted, standing above Yusuke triumphantly.

“Hiei had not,” Botan thought internally, staring wide eyed at the rippling muscles of Hiei’s broad back, slender waist, and powerful shoulders. He looked as though he had been sculpted from stone and his skin gently kissed by the sun’s rays. Botan’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, and she absentmindedly tucked a strand of errant hair behind her ear. This darn heat...

Below, Yusuke groaned as he sat up, rubbing his jaw gingerly, and spit a wad of blood and saliva to the side before hopping to his feet. He noisily cracked his neck to each side before jumping from the pit to stand in front of Hiei once more.

“Gimme a break Hiei, Keiko’s made an honest man out of me after all,” Yusuke said with a hearty laugh, clapping a hand down on Hiei’s shoulder, “I’ve just gotta get back into the swing of things. But look at you Hiei; Someone’s finally learned how to throw a real punch! That last one actually hurt. Feels like your arm is made of steel man!”

Botan’s eyes wandered over Hiei’s “steel-like” arms, noting just how much thicker they were from the last time she’d seen him, the sealing bandages wrapped around his right arm stretched taut against his biceps and triceps, threatening to burst at the seams whenever he raised his fist. Why, she was sure even Kuwabara would be envious of Hiei’s new size and definition!

Hiei scoffed, slapping away Yusuke’s hand.

“Had you stayed in Demon World, you may have become a more worthy challenge. You’ll waste away here.”

“Don’t you worry about me half-pint, when the time comes, I’ll be sure to kick your ass just like I used to,” Yusuke replied cheekily, waving Hiei’s ruined shirt between them, “If I can take this off you, I’m not as rusty as I think I am.”

Half-pint? Botan was astounded that Yusuke had the gall to even label Hiei such a thing, especially now that they practically stood eye to eye with one another. Sure, Yusuke was still fractionally taller, the pointed tips of Hiei’s hair not included in his height, but Botan was genuinely curious to know if Yusuke had noticed his former comrade had grown nearly a full foot since their last meeting. Because she certainly had... Botan even noticed that the once baggy clothing Hiei used to wear fit much more snugly on his frame, the black material of his trousers clinging shapely to his rear end and thighs, and now only needing one belt to keep them fixed into place! Another wave of heat passed over Botan once more, and she hurriedly fanned herself, trying to find some reprieve in her manufactured breeze.

Hiei snatched the shredded fabric out of Yusuke’s outstretched hand, and with a flare of dark energy, reduced it to cinders.

“Demon World won’t have just been sitting back, cooking noodles until the next tournament rolls around Yusuke,” Hiei bit back sharply, “Countless demons want your head. Either you rise to the occasion, or they will take it.”

“Aww Hiei, is that why you’re here?” Yusuke replied with faux surprise, trying to contain his building laughter, “Cause you’re worried about little ol’ me? I always knew you were a softie Hiei!”

“Fool. Go back to your hole.” Hiei growled, turning from Yusuke and beginning to stalk toward the forest.

“Hey,” Yusuke called out, sounding more genuine and serious, “You came all the way here to give me the kick in the ass I needed to get back on to your level... so thanks Hiei, I appreciate it. I’ll be ready for the tournament, you can count on it. No way I’m dying before I beat your ass again.”

Hiei stopped and looked back over his shoulder at Yusuke, an unreadable expression across his face.

“Hn. There won’t be any mirrors to save you next time Yusuke.”

Yusuke broke into a wide grin and threw himself at Hiei playfully, “Love you too Shnookums!”

Botan let out a gasp, hands flying to her cheeks and her eyes sparkling, too distracted by her own thoughts to notice Hiei dodging Yusuke’s advances in the courtyard, “Was Hiei always so kind and considerate!?” Botan asked herself incredulously.

Of course, she had always known Hiei to be a swell guy who held an obvious soft spot for Yukina, but this was the first time she had ever seen him go to such lengths to help out another person. Well, without being coerced into doing so that is. But still, it warmed her heart to witness first hand that Hiei truly did care for his friends and seemed to have grown comfortable enough to express those feelings in his own, awkward way. “Perhaps not in so many words... but actions always did speak louder for Hiei,” Botan thought with a giggle. Why, it was almost like Hiei had become a completely new man, and warmth blossomed in her chest realizing just how far he’d grown from being the nasty little criminal she had first met all those years ago. His maturation, both physically and emotionally, was really quite… attractive.

Botan could practically feel the heat rising from her cheeks and she buried her face into her hands as the realization dawned upon her; she was totally into Hiei!

Where had this come from and how could it have happened after so many years apart!? They had never been particularly close and she could practically count their personal interactions on both hands. She had always admired Hiei’s strength and reliability, but that certainly couldn’t have been enough to evoke these feelings, right? Botan peeked through her fingers over at Hiei, finding both he and Yusuke chatting about something that she couldn’t quite make out, but she glued her eyes to the fire demon, studying every aspect of him, searching for clues.

Hiei was an incredibly handsome man, and always had been, she supposed... but she had never really taken notice of his looks until after his prolonged absence. Before their separation, Hiei had always looked so angry at the world, his eyes sharp and distrustful of those around him. And too often had she felt his cold air of indifference or outright hostility directed toward their group of friends in the past than she cared to admit. He’d been so rude and cruel to those around him for so long that Botan supposed it was those lesser quality traits that had kept her from seeing his more positive, physical aspects in the past. At the time, she just couldn’t imagine him being a viable partner...

But now, Botan could see that Hiei had a more calm look on his face, the hardness in his eyes replaced by warm confidence and his body language more light and open, as though a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Botan smiled fondly; whatever it was that Hiei had found in his life, it had clearly been good for him. Yusuke and Kurama had always placed their utmost trust in him, and years prior, she had wondered if they had been wrong to do so, but seeing Hiei now, it was clear that it was she who had misunderstood the way Hiei viewed his comrades. Just like Yusuke once told her; they could always depend on Hiei to save their butts in the end and realizing this to be true, allowed Botan to see Hiei in an entirely new light.

And his body!

Botan gushed, wiggling in her seat as she desperately fought off the giddy squeal of excitement that rose from the pit of her stomach. He was so incredibly sexy that she could hardly tear her gaze away from him! Never before had she been so fixated on a man’s physical prowess, but everything that Hiei had going on, just worked wonders for her. And now that he had turned toward her, Botan could fully appreciate his sculpted chest and core; each pectoral, oblique and abdominal muscle clearly defined by years of hard battle and religious training. Just the sight of them was enough to drive a girl insane with wanton desire and she could only imagine how warm and firm they felt under her finger tips. Her eyes moved ever lower, and the thought of what he may look like elsewhere drifted to the front of her mind...

“Thirsty?”

A wet, frigid cold touched the heated skin of her neck, and Botan could not contain the wail of shock and panic that slipped past her lips as she jumped from her seat and into the courtyard.

“W-w-what was that!?” Botan exclaimed, spinning around to see what had touched her.

Her panic quickly melted into confusion upon seeing Shizuru standing in front of her with a pair of canned drinks in her hands, and wearing an all knowing smile. One that made Botan immediately flustered, and feel as though she’d just been caught doing something she shouldn’t have. Peeking back over her shoulder, Botan spotted both Yusuke and Hiei staring curiously over her outburst, but she hurriedly waved them off, trying to avoid eye making contact with either of them.

“Shizuru, w-what are you doing here?” Botan stammered awkwardly, pawing at the air like a kitten.

Shizuru paused before answering, staring out into the courtyard and then back to Botan, who looked increasingly nervous as the seconds ticked by in silence. Taking a seat, Shizuru beckoned Botan over, and the pair sat side by side, long legs dangling over the walkway’s ledge.

“Kazuma heard from Kurama that Yusuke was up here training for that demon tournament,” Shizuru explained, tossing one of the canned beverages toward Botan who clumsily caught it, “He wanted in, so he used that dimension sword thing of his to bring us up here; makes for cheap and easy travel you know. I figured you wouldn’t be too far from the scene, so Yukina, Keiko, and I tagged along too.”

“O-oh! Well that’s just grand! Yes! It’s been far too long since we’ve had a little get together, let alone some girl time,” Botan said, popping open her beverage and taking a sip. Tropical berries, yum!

“That’s true,” Shizuru replied in a hushed tone, throwing an arm around Botan’s shoulders and pulled her in close, “But it looks to me like you’d prefer some one on one time with Hiei instead.”

Botan promptly choked on her drink, coughing and sputtering as her drink went down the wrong way. Shizuru then gently patted her on the back until her airway was clear enough to take an inhale of breath.

“Shizuru!” Botan exclaimed, positively aghast.

“Am I wrong?”

“I-I-I… well you see... but I didn’t even... um, h-how,” Botan stammered erratically, breaking out into a nervous sweat, her face reddened in embarrassment and humiliation.

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought sweetheart,” Shizuru stated smugly. “Can’t say I blame you though, Hiei got really hot.”

Next to her, Botan tugged nervously on her ponytail, and nodded her affirmation. No sense in denying what was obviously true. “How did you know? I only just found out myself.” Botan whispered meekly.

“Well, it was pretty easy, Botan. You were ogling him like you wanted to replace your oar with his-,”

“Shizuru stop!” Botan wailed, trying to muffle Shizuru’s mouth with her hands but Shizuru leaned back out of the way, openly laughing at Botan's outrage.

Botan cast a panicked glance over to Hiei, hoping that he hadn’t heard Shizuru’s crass words, but froze solid upon seeing that he was looking right at her, his crimson eyes smoldering and a seductive smirk playing at his lips. She wasn’t even sure how it was possible to be both so incredibly mortified and aroused at the same time, but the look on Hiei’s face did both to her, and she couldn’t help but shiver under his gaze, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

It was then that Shizuru leaned in once more, whispering, “Looks like Hiei’s pretty thirsty too. Why don’t you go give him a drink?” Shizuru then forced her own unopened beverage into Botan’s free hand and guided the ferry woman to her feet.

Across the lawn, Yusuke slapped Hiei noisily on the back, then jogged off with an amused cackle. Shizuru followed suit, sauntering away with a call of “Good luck,” before leaving Botan and Hiei alone to figure things out.

Botan swallowed thickly, briefly staring down at the chilled can in her hand, before returning her focus to Hiei. He... err, it was really was quite hot today... and she supposed that even fire demons like Hiei would need to quench their thirst on a day like today. Yes, she decided, there was nothing wrong with sharing a drink with an old friend. She took a tentative step toward Hiei and tried her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as Hiei began to advance on her in return.

[bechloeislegit]

25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020

Day 20 - The Barden Christmas Eve Bake-Off

Author's Prompt: Bakeoff AU - Every year Barden has a Christmas Eve Bake-Off, and for four straight years, Chloe Beale has won it with her baking partner Beca Mitchell. The two had a misunderstanding, and it's time for the bake-off. Will they settle their differences and win again this year? Or will their chances crumble along with their cookies?

The day before Christmas Eve, Chloe Beale walked into the Barden Christmas Eve Bake-Off kitchen and found her baking station. She set the box she had been carrying on the table and checked out her station.

Chloe had won the Bake-Off for the past four years and hoped to make it number five this year. No other baker, except one, has ever won the title for more than four years in a row, and Chloe beat that record last year, and she was ready to win again. Unfortunately for her, as her partner, Beca Mitchell was the other baker who had four wins to her name.

"Fuck!"

"Must you always be cursing?" Chloe asked, glaring over at Beca trying to wheel their hand cart through the door.

"Must you always be riding my ass?" Beca snarked back.

Beca finally made it through the door and stopped in front of their baking station. Beca looked at Chloe and asked, "Where do you want these?"

"Just leave it there," Chloe said, nodding to indicate where Beca was currently standing.

Beca sighed and made her way around the counter, so she was facing Chloe. She took a deep breath and said, "Can we not fight during the competition, Chlo? Can we please talk instead?"

Chloe didn't say anything; she just stared at Beca.

"Chloe?" Beca said. Chloe stared down at the counter, causing Beca to emit a loud sigh. "If you want to talk, I'm not going anywhere."

Beca's jaw was clenched as she turned and went back to the boxes. She took one and set it on the counter, and started removing the contents, setting them on the table.

"Um, Beca?" Chloe said, causing Beca to look over at her expectantly. "You're not supposed to unbox anything until tomorrow."

"Oh, um," Beca said, replacing what she took out of the box. "Right."

"Beca!" Stacie called as she walked in carrying a box. "Looks like we're neighbors."

Stacie set the box down at the next baking station. She walked over to Beca and grabbed her in a hug, and kissed her on the lips. The kiss was just a quick peck, but it caused Chloe's jaw to drop.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Beca asked, pushing Stacie away from her.

"I heard you and Chloe were no longer a thing," Stacie said, looking over at Chloe. "So, I thought I'd stake my claim before someone else did."

"Sorry, Stacie," Beca said. "I'm not interested." Beca lowered her voice and added, "You know I want Chloe. Even if Chloe doesn't want anything to do with me right now."

"You should take her up on it, Beca," Chloe said, having heard Beca. "I don't have it in me to care about what or who you do."

Chloe turned and started walking towards the exit. "I'm going home. I'll see you tomorrow."

Chloe hid her face so no one would see the tears in her eyes.

Beca's eyes were full of concern as she watched Chloe walk out the door. Beca ran out after her.

"Chloe?" Beca called out. "Wait. Please?"

"Leave me alone, Beca," Chloe said, wiping at her tears.

"Are you okay?" Beca asked. "You aren't looking so good right now."

"What do you care?" Chloe asked, glaring at Beca. "Isn't Stacie waiting for you?"

"I don't care about Stacie," Beca said. "I care about you because, even though you hate me for some reason, I lo-." Beca snapped her mouth shut when she realized what she was about to say. She swallowed and said, "I like having you as my friend."

"I guess I was right about you," Chloe said.

"What the Hell is that supposed to mean?" Beca asked, scowling.

"It means you aren't mature enough to handle what happened between us," Chloe said, causing Beca's cheeks to redden.

"Why are you so mad at me?" Beca asked. "What did I do?"

"Don't pretend like you don't know," Chloe scoffed.

"I'm not pretending," Beca said. "We had a great night, and you were fine when I left you. Then you shut me out and won't even talk to me."

"Can you blame me after what you did?" Chloe asked.

"That's just it," Beca said. "I haven't got a clue as to what I've supposedly done to make you hate me."

"Is everything okay over here, Beca?" Stacie asked, walking over to stand next to Beca.

"I don't know," Beca said and pointed over at Chloe. "Ask her."

Stacie turned to Chloe with a raised brow. "Well, Chloe? What's going on?"

"You really don't know why I'm upset with you?" Chloe asked, looking at Beca.

"That's what I just said," Beca said, sighing heavily. "That's what I've been saying."

"I can't be sure if you're telling the truth or not," Chloe said.

"Why would she lie?" Stacie asked, coming to Beca's defense.

"Because it was a dirty thing to do," Chloe said. "And Beca could be lying to try and get back on my good side."

Beca scoffed, and Stacie stood speechless as they both stared at Chloe as she glared at the two of them.

"I should probably go," Beca said, looking around. "A lot more people are here now, and I don't want to get in the middle of something in front of them."

"Let's go to my place," Stacie said. "We can talk about the bake-off and discuss where I'll be taking you on our first date."

"Okay," Beca said.

Chloe stood gawking in disbelief as the two brunettes walked off together.

~~ Day 20 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmas - 2020 ~~

"So, you never told me what actually happened between you and Chloe," Stacie said as she and Beca sat on her sofa, sipping beers.

"Well," Beca said, holding her beer bottle and picking at the label. "We were on our fourth date, and she invited me back to her place. We were talking and then we were kissing. One thing leads to another, and she led me to her bedroom. We had sex for the first time, and it was amazing."

"So, what happened?"

"It was about four in the morning and my phone pinged with a text notification," Beca said. "It was from my dad telling me that my grandmother had been in an accident and things didn't look good for her, so they were heading to the airport to catch a flight to Portland. He also said he had reserved a ticket in my name."

"I'm so sorry, Beca," Stacie said. "Why didn't you tell her?"

"I left her a note," Beca said. "I mean, it all happened so fast, but I wasn't going to just leave her without saying something. I called my dad, and he said he was on his way to my place to pick me up. I told him I wasn't at home and I'd meet them at the airport because I still had to go home and pack. Chloe was sleeping so peacefully that I didn't have the heart to wake her. So, I wrote Chloe a note and left. I went home, packed, and went straight to the airport."

Beca pulled out her phone and opened her camera app. She found the picture she was looking for and said, "See? I took a picture of her because she looked so peaceful laying there."

Stacie took the phone and looked at the picture. She smiled and handed the phone back to Beca.

"And Chloe didn't accept your explanation?" Stacie said.

"I don't know what she accepted," Beca said. "I texted her when my grandma died, and she never responded. I even tried to call her, but she didn't answer. And, now, every time I try to talk to her, she walks away or avoids being in the same place she knows I'll be. I don't know what I did to make her ghost me like that unless she regretted that night but doesn't have the guts to tell me. I'm surprised she didn't kick me out when I showed up for the bake-off."

"That doesn't sound like Chloe," Stacie said. "Something else must have happened."

"Like what?" Beca said. "Things were going great until we had sex."

"Maybe this bake-off thing will be your chance to make her talk to you," Stacie said. "I've got your back whenever you're ready to try talking to Chloe."

"And no more flirting just to rile up Chloe, okay?" Beca asked. "I really don't want her any madder at me than she already is."

"You've got it bad for her, huh?" Stacie asked.

"I'm in love with her, Stacie," Beca said.

"That's huge, Beca," Stacie said, sitting up straight. "I thought you were just having a bit of fun with her. I promise to behave."

"Then I'm in," Beca said. "Thanks, Stacie."

"No worries," Stacie said. "We'll put a plan in play tomorrow at the bake-off. After we're done, she'll be talking to you again."

Beca held out her beer bottle, and Stacie tapped it with her own. "Let's do it!"

~~ Day 20 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmas - 2020 ~~

The next day, Beca stood nervously at her baking station, waiting for Chloe to show up. She was barely listening to the schedule of the competition. A cheer went up when they mentioned the afternoon's challenge of the gingerbread house decorating.

Beca knew if they made it through the first round, they'd be hard to beat on the gingerbread challenge. Chloe made the best gingerbread around, and Beca had a special design ready to not only wow the judges but hopefully wow Chloe even more.

The gingerbread houses were not judged on taste alone. They were also judged on the originality and execution of their design.

Beca had done the competition enough times that she knew the day was broken down into two parts. The morning was set aside for the original cookie recipe, and the afternoon was the gingerbread house competition. For the original cookie, each team had to make four dozen cookies and be judged based on the recipe's originality, taste, and presentation.

Chloe still had not arrived, and the competition was about to start. They had not discussed the original recipe they were going to use, but Beca had one she had planned out.

"Alright, bakers," the announcer said, causing Beca to panic slightly. "You've got three hours to make four dozen cookies, using an original cookie recipe of you and your partner's creation. Your time starts now!"

Beca and the rest of the competitors started hustling around their stations. Beca kept stealing glances over at the door, expecting Chloe to come through them. Her heart grew heavier every time she looked up and didn't see Chloe.

Beca had not noticed Stacie making her way over to her.

"Don't worry, Beca," Stacie said, causing Beca to jump. "I'm sure Chloe will be here. She's not the type to leave anyone hanging."

"I'm not worried yet," Beca said. "I have the original cookie recipe challenge handled. I just need her to show up in time for the gingerbread challenge."

"Feeling extra confident, are you?" Stacie teased, causing Beca to laugh.

"Rightfully, so," Beca replied. "We have won it four times in a row for a reason. Shouldn't you be helping your partner?"

"Jessica has it covered," Stacie said with a shrug. "She only needs me when it's time to dip the cookies in the chocolate."

"Is she trying her chocolate-covered mint cookie again?" Beca asked.

"Yep," Stacie said. "She's been tweaking it since last year. She thinks this is her year to take down Team BeChloe."

Beca laughed and shook her head. Stacie turned her head when she heard Jessica calling her.

"I gotta go," Stacie said and went back to her station.

~~ Day 20 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmas - 2020 ~~

Beca had pulled the last tray of peanut butter cookies out of the oven and set them on the counter. She checked her banana filling and got her piping bags ready. She laid out the two dozen that had been cooling and began piping the banana filling on a cookie; she then placed a second cookie on top.

"What did you make, Beca?" Stacie asked from her station.

"I call them Chloe's Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwich Cookies," Beca said.

"How did you come up with that?" Jessica asked.

"From Chloe," Beca said. "She told me her mom used to make her peanut butter and banana sandwiches for lunch practically every day when she was in elementary school. I thought it would bring back some nice memories for her."

"They sound good, Beca," Jessica said.

"She's so whipped," Stacie mumbled to Jessica, causing Jessica to laugh.

Beca put two cookies together and walked over to Jessica and Stacie. She held the cookies out and said, "Would you two taste these? I need to know if I have enough banana flavor in the filling."

"Sure, Beca, we'll try them," Stacie said, taking both cookies and handing one to Jessica.

Jessica bit into her cookie and frowned.

"What's wrong, Jess?" Beca asked, looking worried. "Do they taste bad?"

"No," Jessica said. "They taste amazing. I kind of hate you right now."

"She's right, Beca," Stacie said, chewing on her cookie. "These are really good. And it has the perfect amount of banana flavor."

"Thanks," Beca said. "I was hoping Chloe would be the taste tester, but she's still not here."

~~ Day 20 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmas - 2020 ~~

Beca was standing at Stacie and Jessica's station while waiting for the judges to come back and announce the winners of the original cookie recipe challenge.

"There's Chloe," Stacie said, causing Beca to look over at the door.

"Seriously?" Beca said. "I texted her, and she didn't have the courtesy even to respond. And now she waltzes in here like she isn't over three hours late."

"Go talk to her before the judges come back," Stacie said.

"What if we talk and she tells me she actually hates me?" Beca asked.

"What if she tells you she loves you?" Stacie said. "Problem solved."

Beca chewed her lip and once again looked over at Chloe.

"Go ahead, Beca," Stacie said. "We have a few minutes before the judges come back."

Beca sighed and slowly made her way over to her baking station. Getting there just as Chloe did.

"Hey," Chloe said.

"Hey?" Beca snapped. "Seriously? You come in late, missing almost the entire first challenge, and all you can say is, hey? Unbelievable!"

"What do you want from me, Beca?" Chloe asked.

"What I want from you is for you to tell me why you've been ignoring me?" Beca whisper-yelled. "Do you really hate me that much?"

Chloe's mouth dropped open. She lowered her voice and said, "I don't hate you. And I didn't start ignoring you until you left me to wake up alone after we had sex. How do you think that made me feel?"

"I left you a note!" Beca whisper-yelled.

"No, you didn't," Chloe whisper-yelled back.

"Yes, I did," Beca said. "You were sleeping so peacefully I didn't have the heart to wake you up."

"Why did you leave then?"

"I explained it all in the note!"

"There wasn't a note!" Chloe repeated, her frustration with Beca even more evident. "Just tell me why you left."

"Because I had to go to Maine," Beca said, getting irritated. "My grandmother had an accident, and they didn't think she was going to make it, so my dad and I flew up to see her before she passed. We barely made it before she died."

"Your grandmother died?' Chloe asked, moving her arm to reach out to Beca, only to drop it back down to her side when Beca flinched away from Chloe.

"She did," Beca said. "And you would know this if you hadn't ignored my texts or my phone call. My grandmother died, and the one person I thought would be there for me didn't even acknowledge me. How do you think that made me feel?"

Beca wiped a tear from her eye. She turned and said over her shoulder, "I'm sorry I bothered you. It won't happen again."

Chloe stood, unmoving as Beca walked away. She didn't know what to say. She wiped a tear that fell down her cheek.

"Chloe?" Stacie said as she walked up to the redhead. "Are you okay?"

"No," Chloe said, wiping the tears from her face.

"Did Beca tell you about the note?" Stacie asked.

Chloe just nodded and said, "She mentioned it, but I swear there wasn't any note."

Stacie looked over at Beca, standing across the room with her back against the wall. She could see Beca was crying.

"Chloe," Stacie said. "Are you sure there wasn't a note? Could it have fallen under the bed or something?"

"I guess anything is possible," Chloe mumbled. "But, it's been over two weeks. I'm sure I would have found it by now if there was one."

"Wait here," Stacie said. "I just thought of something."

Stacie rushed over to Beca. Beca wiped her face when she saw Stacie coming toward her.

"Beca, can I see that picture again?" Stacie asked. "The one you took of Chloe before you left that morning?"

"Why?" Beca asked.

"Something's been bugging me about it since you first showed it to me," Stacie said. "Let me see it; maybe I can figure it out."

"I don't know what you expect to see," Beca said. "It's just Chloe sleeping."

Beca pulled out her phone and opened the camera app; she found Chloe's picture and held the phone out to Stacie. Stacie took the phone and looked at it. She squinted and then used two fingers to enlarge the photo.

"Aha!" Stacie cried out. "It's there!"

"What's there?" Beca asked, wiping her cheeks.

"Your note," Stacie said. "It's in the picture, see?"

Beca looked at her phone and smiled.

"And, you can clearly read most of what the note said," Stacie said. "You have to show this to Chloe."

"Ladies and gentleman, we ask that all bakers return to your stations," a voice called out, garnering everyone's attention. "We are ready to announce the winners of the first challenge."

"Take this," Stacie said, shoving the phone into Beca's hands. "And prove to Chloe you left a note."

Beca took the phone and hurried over to her baking station. She slowed down when she saw Chloe glaring at her with her arms crossed over her chest.

Beca looked down at her phone and back up to Chloe. She turned her phone off and put it in her back pocket. She went to her station and stood close to Chloe but would not look at her. Beca kept her eyes to the front the whole time.

The announcer went through the winner's list, starting with the team in tenth place. They were down to the second-place team.

"And in second place," the announcer said. "With their chocolate-dipped mint cookies, Team Conrad/Smith!"

Stacie and Jessica squealed and ran up to the judge to get their 2nd place ribbon.

"And now, first place in the original recipe category," the announcer said. "With Chloe's Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwich Cookies, Team Beale/Mitchell!"

Everyone started clapping. Jessica and Stacie were yelling, "Way to go, BeChloe!"

Chloe's mouth dropped open in shock; Beca went up to the judges and accepted their first-place ribbon. She came back and threw it on the table in front of Chloe.

"This belongs to you," Beca said.

"You named your cookie after me?" Chloe said. "What made you do that?"

"Because you're the one who gave me the idea for it," Beca said.

"I did?" Chloe said.

"Yeah, you did," Beca said. "You once told me how your mother always made you peanut butter and banana sandwiches for lunch when you were in elementary school."

"You remember that?" Chloe asked. "I told you that years ago."

"I remember a lot of things you told me, Chloe," Beca said, reaching to retrieve a cookie. "Here, try it."

Beca handed Chloe her namesake cookie, and Chloe bit into it.

"Oh, my God, Becs," Chloe said. "It tastes just like the peanut butter and banana sandwiches I remember."

Chloe sighed and looked down at the table. "Becs, I'm sorry I didn't believe you about the note. I should have known you wouldn't lie about something like that. I am truly sorry."

"If you need me to, I can prove I left you a note," Beca said, pulling out her phone.

Chloe put a hand over Beca's, stopping her. "That's not necessary," Chloe said. "I'm serious, I believe you. I really do."

"There was something else in that note that you need to know about," Beca said.

"What?" Chloe asked.

"I said, I, um," Beca stammered. "I said I love you. That night was really special to me, and I couldn't leave without telling you how I felt. Even if it was in a note."

Chloe's eyes widened, and before Beca knew it, Chloe pulled Beca to her and crashed their lips together. Stacie and Jessica could be heard yelling and cheering. Chloe started laughing and pulled back from the kiss.

"I love you, too, Becs," Chloe said just before reattaching her lips to Beca's.

Later that night, Beca and Chloe were lying on Chloe's sofa. Beca was on cloud nine; not only had she gotten the girl, but they had won the Barden Bake-off for an unprecedented fifth time.

"I can't believe you made up an original cookie recipe using one of my favorite sandwiches from when I was a kid," Chloe murmured as she laid snuggled up with Beca. "And I love that for the gingerbread challenge you designed a replica of a campsite because I told you how much I loved going camping with my family."

"I wanted you to know how I feel about you," Beca said. "I thought using some of your childhood memories would let you know I was paying attention all this time."

Beca looked at the time and noticed it was after Midnight. She smiled as she whispered, "Merry Christmas, Chloe," just before kissing Chloe again.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I know, I know; Christmas has been over and it's now March. But life has a way of interrupting some things. And I've always said I will never abandon a story or leave it unfinished, so this is me keeping my promise. Days 20-22 are done and will be posted today. Days 23-25 are still being edited and revamped a bit and will be posted in a couple of days. And that will truly end Christmas 2020 for me. Thank you all for your patience and your kind words along the way.

[irrelevantsunarin]

things people need to stop saying in fanfiction

this first part if mostly about explicit or mature content so if that bothers you you can skip to the end - I will label it in pink!

"wet cavern" - does not sound like it should be describing a mouth (and so overused)

globes of flesh (usually in reference to a butt) - yucky

plush lips - no thank you

on that note, also: surging forward into a kiss - totally fucks with the flow of the story every time, and just makes me die inside

"mound" - bad in any context except a pile of dirt

"heat" (usually in the context of "his/her/their heat") - I think this one is pretty self explanatory

Two in one:

and on that note, please keep words for crotch bits simple - if I see one more fic that uses a different word every sentence I'm going to shrivel up and waste away. it's cringe, please stop.

some common ones that annoy me are as follows:

member

length

shaft

core

heat

hole

if you're gonna write p*rn you really should be comfortable enough to talk about the peepee parts without avoidance. you don't have to say p*nis but please avoid the ones that make people (read: me) gag.

I feel like this one goes without saying but... anything about "pain and pleasure" whether the pain turns into pleasure or both at the same time - it's terribly overused and I honestly don't know if anyone still uses it anymore outside of wattpad (but I just read it in something so I guess it's still relevant)

I just want to point out one thing that bothers me specifically - I see a lot of kissing scenes go like this: kissing passionately with mouths closed -> someone gasps, allowing the other one to sneak in some tongue and force the other person's mouth open -> full out frenching - like, correct me if I'm wrong but making out usually happens with mouths open even before tongue, if their mouths were closed it would just be a lot of mushing faces together

making things anatomically correct is important

where did the idea come from that lady cum is sweet and dude cum is bitter/salty? - I've asked friends about this and I don't think it's really a thing (it could be more bitter or taste different based on what you eat) but I think comparing it to food flavors doesn't really make sense... which brings me to another, more uncomfortable topic. abo fanfiction. for whatever reason, it's always in weird animal/abo shit where they take this stuff to the next level - slick always tastes like some specific pastry or food and the character's scents are always described like mall candle scents. to clarify: people secretion tastes and smells like people, people don't smell like specific things (woodsmoke, freshly cut grass, etc) unless they are often around those things and their genitals certainly shouldn't taste like them

I apologise, that last one was a little nasty, but now...

this next part is about general stuff and not the dirty

"the _____ boy/girl" (the blue haired girl, etc. I've even seen it using character distinguishers referencing the story like: "the explosive boy" - bakugo from bnha) - please, it doesn't hurt the story to just use their name or pronouns (and if you feel like you're saying those too much you should probably take a step back and talk about something else other than the characters)

adverbs! - not inherently evil but I would like to remind you all that GOOD adverbs are ones that contradict whatever they're describing (ie. killing me softly instead of harshly or what not) otherwise, use them sparingly

please don't describe skin colors with food words - it's disrespectful and kinda gross, especially because it is usually only used for POC characters (ex: chocolate, caramel, mocha, coffee, etc.)

"something more" - in literally any context (a promise of something more, [x] wanted something more, it felt like something more) you know what just don't say "more" in any situation like that - find another way to say it and it will be better I promise

i feel like these are all cliches that everyone makes fun of but i'm putting them in anyway:

[insert color] orbs - just say eyes, it's fine

blushing (this includes turning red, flushing, and any other way to describe it) - there are other ways to show embarrassment

when a female (or more feminine) character is described as a lot smaller and physically weaker than the male/masculine character - glorifies and fetishizes the stereotypes of feminine people being submissive and weak. basically it's gross.

I have seen a lot of people talking about the phrase: "they let out a breath they didn't even know they were holding" - and while I agree that it's overused I don't think it's unrealistic. it is a thing that can happen in a particularly stressful situation and it does a good job of letting the readers know that the pace of the story is changing and that they too can stop holding their breath at whatever wild thing is going on. definitely don't overuse it but once isn't the end of the world.

smirking - no explanation necessary

s-s-s-stuttering - when people stutter from nerves they tend to repeat whole words, not just the first letter.

This:

Also remember to please use line and paragraph breaks and don't write in first person unless you're really confident because I have never in my life read a good fanfic that was written in first (or second) person

[nomazee]

Enigma

tendou satori x reader; side ushijima & reon & reader friendship

word count: 2900+

content: slowburn (as slow as it can get in <3000 words), developing friendships, platonic relationships (this is pretty much,,,not romantic at all???), brief mentions of past bullying/exclusion, mild trust issues, fluff

cross-posted on my ao3

(WOW OKAY so first off,,,not to flex but i’m kind of really proud of this?? i hope it’s as good as i think it is right now--i’m kind of hyped up on caffeine and a lack of sleep so my perception of things might be a little off, to say the least. 

i think tendou is an interesting character, and he has a personality that’s sort of,,,,malleable? in a sense? so this is my take on him! but i hope i still kept him accurate to how he’s portrayed in the show. 

also !! i’m probably going to be opening up requests soon!! this is still a small blog but once i post my request rules you can feel free to stop by and leave a suggestion in my inbox :) 

i really hope you guys enjoy this one!! happy reading!!)

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

Making friends was never an easy process for you. You could count on one hand the amount of friendships you’d initiated yourself, and most of those occurred between the ages of five and twelve. After that, it was not smooth sailing and you found yourself sinking deeper into a pit of self-doubt and self-loathing. 

Because, you figured that the only reason you couldn’t form connections deeper than surface-level was because you were… well, you. People never made the effort to approach you, so you didn’t put in the effort either. Though at first it was a tough pill to swallow, you’d convinced yourself that was just how life went as one of the unlucky ones. 

Maybe you’d be a bit more content if the lucky ones would retain their distance from you. 

In a way, they did. The kids with big friend groups--the typical loud, chatty ones that pushed tables together in the cafeteria to fit their whole squad--didn’t really interact with the likes of you. Not that you minded. You only started to mind when they did start to interact with you in a less-than-pleasant manner. 

It started with lingering glances that you felt burn into the back of your neck during lunch. That’s what initially drove you out of the main cafeteria and into the bathroom, where you’d neglect eating in exchange for a quiet, botherless place. Then it led to too-tight smiles being sent your way in the hallways, followed by silent laughter shared among their groups. By then you’d caught on, and tried to distance yourself from them. But things never went as planned for unlucky ones like you. 

They’d talk to you in class, eyes narrowed, brows raised, and smiles pulled taut against their conventional features as they chatted about their weekend with you as if you were all old friends. 

It hurt more than being alone had. After a while, you learned to be alone and not lonely. You liked it, even. Knowing that these people were feigning friendship for their own sick entertainment only served to hold you back in the grand scheme of school-life. 

You remembered all the jeering comments from junior high even when entering your first year of high school. You remembered the comments on your hair (“Yeah! That’s such a cute style! You should wear it more often”) that only led to you holding back tears in the girls’ bathroom during lunch and plucking out bobby pins from within your hair, reverting back to whatever style you typically wore. You remembered comments on your photos that you’d even dared to post online (“I liked your outfit that you wore on your trip last weekend. So cute”) that nearly made you delete your account after heavy consideration. 

You remembered a lot of things. Maybe too many for your own good. It’s what led to you lacking trust in everyone around you and analyzing things far too deeply to be healthy. 

When you entered high school, you expected things to be the same. Though the same group of people weren’t following you to your choice of school (Shiratoriawa, which you studied frantically for in what you were sure was a subconscious effort to distance yourself from whatever schools they would be attending), you figured that people didn’t change. People didn’t mature. It was still school, after all. No age or grade or whatever would change human nature. 

Maybe that’s why Tendou Satori had been such an enigma to you in your first year. 

You remembered entering homeroom--no daring makeup, no accessories to your uniform, and hair worn as always--and avoiding the gazes of all your classmates. You plopped yourself into whatever spare seats were in the back and waited for the day to start, quiet and mundane and tiring as always. 

What you hadn’t been expecting was someone to talk to you--already, on your first day. As if you were such a visible target for those around you that they could immediately sniff out your inferiority among them. 

Bright red hair that seemed to defy gravity was the first feature you noticed. His eyes were a similar color, though certainly darker, and his expression was far too similar to those you’d seen in the past for comfort. 

“Hiya! I’m Tendou. What’s your name?” 

The greeting went in one ear and out the other, though the general gist of it had stuck inside your head well enough to be able to process it. You averted your eyes from his. The best way to deal with someone like him was to respond, and not hope for, ask for, or do anymore than that. 

You gave him your name. His smile only widened. 

“Nice to meet you. I hope we can be good friends.”

You stayed silent. There wasn’t much point in saying anything. Your nails bit into the skin around your thumbs until it was red and aching. 

Weeks passed and Tendou has resigned himself to a strange sort of routine with you. He’d say good morning, ask you about the homework, and make small comments during lecture which you assumed were attempts to get something out of you. Before lunch, he’d ask you if you wanted to sit with him. You’d decline, spend your break in the bathroom, come back to class, and the events from the morning would only repeat themselves with the addition of a polite farewell at dismissal as you two parted to different dormitories. 

It was uncomfortable, but you put up with it because--well, what else were you supposed to do?

Tendou was a bit peculiar to you, though. He put up facades of false friendliness just like the old kids from junior high used to do. But whenever you’d catch him in the hallways, he never seemed to walk in groups like they used to. You couldn’t speak for how it was during lunch, considering that you were never really there--but when you occasionally spotted his bright red head of hair bounding through the halls, he was always alone. 

You shrugged it off. To be fair, you didn’t see him often outside of class, so the conclusions you’d drawn were bound to be at least a little off. 

A couple of months went by. The routine didn’t change, and neither did you and Tendou. You were both the same individuals, and just as always, you weren’t planning on twisting any of fate’s strings. 

Tendou seemed to be different, though. He seemed to grow more and more curious of you as time passed. His questions became less vague and more frequent. He started voluntarily walking with you in the hallways whenever lunchtime rolled around. Thankfully, he never questioned it when you parted ways with him and walked in a direction that certainly didn’t lead to a cafeteria. 

Until his curiosity peaked, early in the morning before homeroom started. 

He greeted you, as always, and let you simmer in comfortable silence for a minute before he decided to prod at you. 

“Hey, [Name]. I never see you in the lunchroom. What’s that about?” 

You paused. No one ever really asked you about that before. You blinked once, then twice, and cleared your throat. 

“I don’t like going there.” You didn’t know where your sudden streak of honesty came from. Even Tendou seemed a bit shocked at your suddenly-informative response, and seemed to make the most of this unusual occurrence. 

“So, where do you go instead? Library?” 

“No.” 

“Then…?”

“Bathroom.” 

“...oh…? Why don’t you sit with me at lunch today?” 

Oh. The pattern came back. “No, thank you.” 

“C’mon! Just this once. I promise. And then you can come back if you want, but you don’t have to.” You retracted your previous statement. Usually Tendou would let you do your own thing after asking once, but this was different. Again. 

You took the time to consider his suggestion--again, something that was unfamiliar to you. Maybe just once. Just to analyze more of who he was and who his friends were--if he had any. You’d keep your expectations low, you promised yourself. (But a voice at the back of your head giggled in childish excitement at the prospect of maybe having an actual acquaintance.)

You agreed, and Tendou made an exclamation of victory that you couldn’t help but find a little endearing. 

When lunchtime rolled around, Tendou bounded to you and grabbed your wrist, pulling you along to the cafeteria (which you’d never seen before, so you couldn’t help but stare in mild awe at the grandeur of it). He’d asked you if you were buying lunch--you said no, as you never really had an appetite this time of day and he gave a playful frown, flicking you on the forehead and reminding you that you still had to eat and stay healthy. 

Since you hadn’t gone on line, he didn’t, either. You voiced your guilt and he shrugged, dragging you a long to a separate stand away from the main line and purchasing a few snacks for you to share. 

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” you told him. “You really don't have to get me anything, though.” 

“Nonsense!” Tendou exclaimed. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn't make sure you were well-fed?” 

Though the nature of his words were playful, you found a hint of something in his eyes and tone. Something that, despite your years of analyzing people’s body language and tone and words, you simply could not deduce that easily and put a label on. 

You paused. It was so foreign to you, but Tendou seemed almost… genuine. 

His smile became more soft rather than teasing, and he took the initiative to take hold of your wrist again and lead you to his table. Whereas you initially expected a large group of loud, coquettish boys you were met with a near-empty circular table occupied by two other boys. 

“Miracle Boy! Reon! This is the girl I told you about!” Your steps faltered for a minute--he’d told them about you? Maybe he was less genuine than you thought. 

‘Miracle Boy’ seemed like an amusing nickname, though, different from the ones you’d heard before. You couldn’t tell which boy had which name, though, leaving you in the dark as you and Tendou took a seat next to each other. 

One boy had dark brown hair while the other had a strange olive color. The former gave you a smile, like the one you’d seen Tendou give you just moments before. 

“I’m Reon. This is Ushijima.” He introduced him and his friend, and you found a wobbly, unfamiliar smile playing on your lips. “You’re [Name]? Tendou has told us abit about you.” 

You didn’t know how to take that, and your hesitation must’ve shown in your expression as Reon gave you a gentle chuckle and a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“All good things. Nothing to worry about.” 

With introductions and mild reassurance out of the way, casual conversation proceeded amongst the four of you--well, mainly among the three of them. You didn’t really find yourself inputting anything into the conversation too often, preferring to listen and nibble on the food Tendou had offered you, nodding along to whatever discussion they had. 

You realized that the way Tendou interacted with Reon and Ushijima, who you assumed were his close friends, was very similar to the way he interacted with you. It made you separate him from your initial interpretations of his character and hold him in a much better light, though still with a hesitation you simply couldn’t get rid of that easily. Reon was calm and very friendly, asking for your input at certain points in the conversation in what you saw as a genuine attempt to involve you in their group. He was observant, you thought, noticing his eyes glancing your way occasionally and taking in your body language before asking you certain questions and shooting kind smiles your way. Ushijima was quiet and seemed indifferent to your presence--which you appreciated. You’d rather have him indifferent than hateful or jeering, and you didn’t take it personally. He just seemed to have that sort of personality. 

By the end of lunch, you found yourself smiling and enjoying yourself. They didn’t seem like the same type of people you knew from junior high. It was a new experience, though not an unwelcome one, and you asked Tendou once you returned to class if you could join him again tomorrow. 

“Always, [Name]!” He shot you one of his blinding, playful grins and you couldn’t hold back the upwards drag of your lips. 

That day you found yourself reciprocating his farewell at dismissal, giving him a wave, a smile, and a nod before making your way back to the girl’s dorms. 

This was good, you thought. Very good. 

Another month passed by, and you developed a routine different than the previous. You’d say good morning, and ask how volleyball practice had been the day before (which you learned he attended early on in your newly-formed friendship). You and him would chat during lulls in class, passing notes occasionally if you felt the need to talk while the teacher was still droning on. When lunch came, he’d take gentle hold of your wrist and lead you to his table--or, on certain occasions, to his volleyball practice, where he made sure you were comfortable despite the intimidating-looking coach. At the end of the day, you’d say goodbye, with a promise to talk to him the next morning or after the weekend was over. 

It took you a while to get used to. But you certainly weren’t mad at it, and Tendou’s presence made it easier for you to adjust than you once thought it would be. You’d stuck to interacting with him only during school--which, in your defense, was what you thought most people did. The concept of meeting up with classmates off school grounds, actually leaving your dorms during the weekends rather than staying holed up in your room as your roommate went out and had her fun--it was even more alien than any other newly-adapted-to-concept had been for you. 

When he suggested exchanging phone numbers, you blinked owlishly at him before processing the fact that maybe that was something you should’ve done a long time ago and obliging to the task. When he asked you to go to the mall with him, Reon, and Ushijima, you repeated the dumbfounded gesture once again, before giving a halfhearted smile and nodding along. 

You were nervous, there was no doubt. But you sucked it up, put on a modest, but (somewhat) stylish outfit, and walked to the train station with your three friends. (It was almost amusing for you to see that number placed next to that word and used in a context referring to you--but you giggled in your room thinking about it and couldn’t find the strength to doubt yourself.) 

Tendou greeted you outside the girls’ dorms, and you felt nervous as he paused on his typical greeting to look you up and down. In the middle of wishing you’d grabbed an oversized sweater rather than the cropped jean jacket you chose, Tendou gave a bright, comforting smile, and laced his fingers with yours. 

“You’re pretty, [Name].” 

You couldn’t help but take apart that sentence as the two of you walked to the train station, Tendou’s endearing rambling becoming a consistent buzz at the back of your head. He stated it like it was fact. He was so sure in everything he said, and this time it was no different. There was no stopping the creeping grin appearing on your face, and Tendou seemed to take notice as his hand squeezed the slightest bit tighter around yours. 

To put it simply, the trip to the mall was fun. Reon gave you a gentle yet knowing look as you and Tendou approach with hands still interlocked, and you were sure you saw Ushijima crack a smile or two during the duration of your trip. Tendou didn’t leave your side--which you felt the slightest bit guilty about, but he managed to brush that internal guilt away wordlessly with simple smiles and his sheer presence. 

Though the four of you barely purchased anything other than food, Tendou made the effort to drag you into a children’s accessory shop while Reon and Ushijima went to order food for all of you. At your confused expression, he leaned down to your height, narrowed his eyes, and analyzed your face before bursting out into giddy giggles. 

“I think you should style your hair more often,” he’d told you. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think these clips would look nice.” 

You left the store with a large, full bag in hand, filled with colorful, bright accessories that Tendou bought and made you promise to wear at least for the next week. It was a childish bargain, sure, but one you knew had deeper meaning than what was just spoken. There was something more in his eyes that you couldn’t hep but smile fondly at as you both left the store and faced Reon’s and Ushijima’s faintly amused expressions. 

Tendou had started off as an enigma to you. He was someone strange--someone you assumed to be the same type you seemed to constantly find yourself tied up in, only to flip that judgement on its head and become the exact opposite. 

The thing about enigmas is that they’re not good or bad--they’re just weird. They’re different, they’re confusing, they’re something new. It was the perfect way to describe Tendou, you thought. He took some getting used to. But he certainly wasn’t bad.

[pluviophile-bookworm]

I feel like I need to talk about this...

I’m very open about being aroace. At least here on Tumblr I am. (Outside of Tumblr, I am technically out, but some issues with my mother and grandmother have forced me back into the closet. I felt miserable about that initially, but I’m learning to be fine with it.) But it wasn’t always this way. In fact, I didn’t even know what aroace meant until I was 18. So how was I supposed to know when I got my first ‘celebrity crush’ that those last words do not, in fact, describe very accurately what I was experiencing? I didn’t know I had ADHD, either. I feel like that might have helped me realise some things about my experience. But let me go back a bit and actually tell you what happened and how it happened. [side note: I’ll be starting from a bit earlier than the ‘crush’ thing happened because I feel like it’s important for whoever reads this to understand how my circumstances shaped the experience I had]

Backstory:

I had always been different from my peers, so it was not surprising to anyone that I was bullied in middle school. [side note: Judging from my and my little brother’s combined experience, I feel like bullying is, quite unfortunately, something of a universal experience in middle school - in my day, I was on the receiving end. This last school year, my brother was the bully. Gosh, I wish I could tell my story without many deviations and without crying as I type, but I’ve already thrown both of those intentions out the window.]

So anyway, things got so bad that I was driven to suicidal thoughts. One night I was just lying in bed, thinking about going through with it, but I was like, well, I’ve got a test in the morning. Maybe after that. 13-year-old me had very weird priorities. I kind of still value my work over my mental health, but I’m working on it. So that night, I didn’t do anything. The next day, right before school, I was on the internet and I found out a new show had premiered. And then, as I was watching the pilot episode, that was when it happened. I saw this boy, whom I will not be naming, and I listened to him sing. I felt nothing much at the moment, but I couldn’t get the song out of my mind all day. Up until that moment, I had had a weird attitude towards music where I’d only listen to female singers. My ‘boys have cooties’ phase, I guess you could say. But this one, he was the first one I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I felt like I could listen to his voice 24/7. I’ve had that feeling hundreds of times by now, but I hadn’t before then. So I figured, this must be what a crush means, right? This must be what all my peers are talking about. The next day, I confided in a girl from my class with whom I was kind of friendly (though not actual friends, I’d say). I asked her if she’d seen the show, if she knew this person. She said yes and we kind of gushed about the song together, and I felt normal for a couple of minutes. I never knew the difference between my experience and what is considered ‘normal’ until years later.

For the time being, the thought of this special person was what was keeping me alive. I started having visions of him walking with me through the school hallways or sitting next to me on the bus home from school. I knew perfectly well those visions weren’t real, but they made me feel better. Happy. Safe. Seen. Full disclosure: I still have such visions, I’ve had them with different people through the years as my hyperfixations change. My latest one is what has enabled me to deal with some of my worst phobias (and I have a long list of them). I’ve never told anybody what it is, and I won’t be telling because I feel like if I do tell, the vision will not be strong enough to work against my fears. But I’m getting sidetracked again. Sorry for that.

So, I was pretty much obsessed with this guy. He was all I could think about, he was keeping me alive through what was possibly the toughest time in my life to date. So naturally, thanks to my heteronormative, amatonormative surroundings, I was convinced I had a crush on him. In fact, after this experience had lasted about a year, I was sure I was in love. 

Then things changed. I started high school. I found a couple of friends, and the people in my class in general made me feel like I could finally be myself. Be open about what I thought and how I felt. So by the end of the first semester, all 27 people in my class knew about my feelings for this guy. What I didn’t know was that they didn’t know that it wasn’t exactly like I was describing it. Because I wasn’t aware that a straight/ allo person’s idea of being ‘in love’ was different from mine. I was just putting things in words I thought I understood. 

So it came as a total surprise when some people from my class started teasing me about it. It wasn’t malicious teasing, that much I could tell. I had been bullied mercilessly before. What my new classmates were doing was asking genuine questions in a slightly teasing manner. For example, it would be known that my special person had a girlfriend, and so they’d ask me ‘aren’t you jealous’ or ‘do you wish you were that’, or stuff like that. And those questions felt so weird. So stupid. I thought, wait, why would I be jealous? Why would I feel bad about this person who has made me so happy, being happy himself? Why would I want to date him? That had nothing to do with how I felt. I told my classmates so. They gave me weird looks in response. So I started feeling like there was something wrong with me. Like I wasn’t doing that ‘in love’ thing right. Suddenly, I felt like my feelings were being intruded upon. Tarnished, somehow. I had always been aware that my visions were anything but real. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. And all of a sudden, somebody was suggesting that I should want to date this person. Why would I want to date anyone, I thought? Even if it was him. Dating people was awkward. Making physical contact with anyone outside my immediate family made me shudder. It still does, though I can hug some of my closest friends without any negative feelings. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Back to my first time I questioned my experience. I was about 14 at the time (in Bulgaria, high school starts from grade 8, ages 13-14 or 14-15), and, well, I didn’t do much questioning at the time. I just told myself that they didn’t understand my feelings, and I stopped being so open about the topic. 

My hyperfixation on this person lasted long. Longer than any other I’ve ever had to date. Maybe it was because I clung to it like it was what tethered me to my mortal life. But by my final year of high school, I could feel it fading away. I was forcing myself to think about this person, to conjure up the old visions; the song that had started it all was drained of all meaning that it had held for me. I was moving on to other hyperfixations. I felt like I was betraying myself, like I was breaking some sort of unbreakable vow. It was time to face the music. So I let go. I allowed myself to move on. It was kind of made easier by the fact that my special person had changed, too, and had moved on to projects that I could not enjoy due to some triggering content. And I moved on.

Then I joined Tumblr. I discovered some things. Among them was Hellenic polytheism. It had been a while since I’d found my faith in the Hellenic pantheon, but Tumblr was where I found out I was not alone, that there was an existent religion. And step by step, I realised that... I had been projecting Apollo’s presence onto my special person. And my old connection to that person had started fading away when I had realised I believed in the gods.

This explained a lot of things. But there was still the fact that I had never been able to look at another person the way my peers were looking at each other. I had been asked out two or three times during high school. I had rejected those people without even thinking about it. My best friend at the time was a boy and most teachers seemed to ship us together because, well, let’s be real - we were constantly fighting like an old married couple. It took him getting a girlfriend and seeing how happy I was for the two of them for everyone to realise that things between us were, and had always been, purely platonic. And now I was going to uni and I had never had feelings I was apparently supposed to have. 

It was also thanks to Tumblr that I discovered the extent of the LGBTQ+ community. I considered myself an ally at first, and I was a passionate ally, too. I still am nothing but supportive to my fellow LGBTQ+ people of all identities, but it was not until I was 18 going on 19 that I discovered the term ‘asexual’. I knew quite suddenly that this was the term for me. I knew what I was and how I felt. I felt mature enough to know the difference between ‘I’m not experienced enough to know for sure’ and ‘I’ve just never had those feelings, I don’t even know what they’re supposed to be like’. It took a bit longer to find out there was a difference between sexual and romantic attraction, but by the time I was 19, I had proudly labelled myself ‘aroace’. I still feel at home with this label. I am completely open to the possibility that it might change with time, but this is what feels right at this time. 

Fast-forward another couple of years to about 8 months ago. I had always known that I got really invested into stuff - shows, books, hobbies, people - only for that investment to wear off after a time. The timespans varied, but I realised I had experienced this ever since I was in pre-school at least. I didn’t have a term for it, though. And then, all of a sudden, Tumblr started offering me posts tagged ADHD. I could relate to maybe 95% of them. At one point, it felt like whatever algorithm this hellsite operates on was shoving the ADHD posts in my face, as if screaming ‘DOES THIS REMIND YOU OF, WELL, YOU?!!!’ in my ears. So I did some tests. I did a lot of self-reflection. I went to a psychiatrist. I was diagnosed in March. I started educating myself on the terminology and found out that what I was experiencing is called hyperfixating. So here I am now.

Here I am now, reflecting back on my experience from 8 years ago, connecting the dots. Realising what it was that I went through, allowing myself to go through it again, with different things and people. I don’t feel the need to cling to hyperfixations anymore because I know that is what they are and I know I can’t keep them forever. Of course, I do feel bad about stopping caring about something that used to be my light and life for a time. I dread the time I’ll get over my current hyperfixation, but I also know it’s inevitable. My ADHD brain needs the change and it happens naturally. And somehow I’m ok with that.

Well, this is it. This is the story of how Tumblr prompted me to discover aspects of myself that have been there for as long as I can remember. What better place to talk about it than Tumblr itself? What better group of people to understand and accept me than my lovely mutuals and followers? If you’re reading this, thank you. For being here, for listening to me, for allowing me to be who I am. You’ve got no idea how happy this makes me, even though I can barely see what I’m typing through the tears. Thank you. 

[mind-of-a-hardstan]

Purple Mist & Candlelight

Fanart by @my-delicate-art-things​. Please go give her some red hearts and love, she deserves it :) 

I made a moodboard

Pairing: Namjoon x reader 

Genre: fluff, smut, witch au, magic au 

Warnings: Witch!Namjoon, mature language, fingering (female receiving), oral (female receiving), dirty talk, edging, aphrodisiacs, use of magic, unprotected sex. 

Summary: After finding out that your ex-boyfriend had placed a curse on you, you turn to your witch friend for help. Breaking the curse requires strange methods though, but it’s not like you really mind. 

Word count: 7.2K 

A/N: Happy Halloween!!! Writing something with plot is pretty new for me, but to say I’m proud of this is an understatement. Also I love Jeon Jeongguk so much and don’t think I don’t. Please leave a comment or ask if you enjoyed it, I’m an attention whore :) 

The smell of herbs hit your senses before anything else. It smelled like home, but you didn’t let yourself dwell on that. Namjoon’s place always smelled good, and there was nothing more to it.

The second thing you noticed was that the entire place was filled with purple mist. You didn’t dwell on that, either. Namjoon was probably brewing some concoction to help with warding off evil spirits or something similar. Seeing strange things in this house wasn’t uncommon.

You breathed the unusual scents in and closed the front door behind you. He gave you a key ages ago and told you to let yourself in whenever you visited, it’d just be easier that way. Another thing you didn’t bother to dwell on.

Namjoon was a witch, always surrounded by strangeness. Dwelling on things was never good when it came to him, so you didn’t bother with it.

You found him in the greenhouse. As you suspected, Namjoon stood in front of his cauldron with a wooden spoon in his hand. The purple mist was pouring out of it, tinting his white hair the same hue. He looked nearly mythical in front of his cauldron with purple steam curling around him.

You tried not to stare for too long.

“What’s that?” you asked, and Namjoon jumped a little. He was obviously too focused on his potion to realise you were there. When he looked up, there was a smile on his face, though, dimples on full display.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?”

“Just visiting. Classes are over and I didn’t want to sit at home,” you said and made yourself comfortable on one of the few chairs in the room. “What’re you making?”

Namjoon turned back to his cauldron (you called it a pot once and nearly threw you with a spoon) and surveyed the contents. His chest was slightly puffed up, clearly proud of what he was doing.

“I’m brewing a potion that’s going to help with controlling my dreams.”

“Why would you want to control your dreams?” you asked and Namjoon blushed.

“Let’s not get into that. Anyway it’s a pretty complicated brew and I’ve tried it like a hundred times but it refused to work. Then I tried using fresh lavender instead of dried, and that made a bit of a difference but not enough. I eventually realised my dragon milk was off and had to wait another week for another batch to arrive. It seems to finally be doing what it should.”

“So… the mist is normal?”

“The mist is the potion, my ignorant little human,” he said, smiling coyly. You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep the little grin off your face.

There were a few moments of silence. Namjoon was stirring his cauldron (pot) with utmost concentration, and you watched him do it. The afternoon sun filtering through the window was tainted purple. It made everything seem altered. Magical.

Namjoon’s eyes were shining with concentration, but also with something else. Something warm and strange and old. It was hypnotising to watch him work. It was always as if you could feel him radiating with magic.

It almost made you forget why you came here in the first place.

“So I have a question,” you finally said after a few minutes of silence.

“I should have known you didn’t just come for my company,” Namjoon said with a raised eyebrow.

“Shut up, I visit you for your company all the time.”

“Not true. You usually visit because you want something and I usually end up giving in.” You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t argue, even if it wasn’t the truth. You just always used it as an excuse to visit him. “What’s your question?” he finished.

“It’s about a curse.”

“Mhmm?”

“I don’t know what it’s called, but it basically makes it impossible for you to orgasm.”

“Sounds like the invidia curse,” Namjoon said absentmindedly, still busying himself with his potion. He added a few drops of something labelled ‘CAUTION HIGHLY TOXIC’ and the pearlescent contents of the cauldron sizzled.

“Right. So like… how does it work?”

“I’m not sure, I’ve never encountered it myself. I can check for you, though,” he said and smiled at you, “Do me a favour and sit over there. If this fucking thing blows up again, I don’t want to hear you moaning about your eyebrows.”

You laughed loudly and did as he said. You didn’t want your eyebrows burnt off again, after all.

He stirred the cauldron two more times and then snapped his fingers, effectively putting out the fire, and his eyes flashed purple as he did so. The sight still left you in awe. You could never get used to him using his magic around you. The thought alone that magic even existed still baffled you, but seeing it was something else entirely.

If you hadn’t met Namjoon, you never would have known about this beautiful, magical world thriving under the radar. You never would have known about magic. You wouldn’t even have known that your ex-boyfriend was a witch if it weren’t for Namjoon.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you blurted. The words surprised you more than it surprised him. Namjoon looked at you with his brows furrowed and a confused smile on his face.

“Thanks?” he said. You smiled sheepishly.

“It’s just that I never would have known about any of this if it wasn’t for you.”

“Not true,” he said, “you knew about magic your entire life, you just never believed in it.”

“Thank you for making me believe, Joonie,” you said, softer than you intended.

“Thank you for believing, Y/n.”

Namjoon reached behind him and picked up a phial from the cluttered countertop, along with a small purple stone. He whispered strange things to it and dropped the stone into the phial. As if summoned, the mist moved with it. It moved like it was alive, pulling itself from the entire house and into the small container.

Within moments, the mist was gone and Namjoon popped the cork into the phial. The light in the room was left slightly altered purple, but it was hardly noticeable. The phial was filled with a pearlescent purple liquid that looked like it would float if you poured it out. You stared at it with awe, but Namjoon quickly stored it in one of the cabinets filled with other strange bottles and phials.

You spotted a few other labels; ‘WISP TEARS,’ ‘MOON WATER,’ WYRM SCALES.’ Was that a name for an herb or was there actual wyrm scales in that box? You tried not to think about it too much.

“I’m guessing it worked, judging by your puffed up chest,” you teased. Namjoon chuckled and nodded.

“It did, but I almost lost hope at some point.”

You did your best not to stare at his dimples. Your best was clearly not enough though. You kept staring as he led you to the kitchen to make tea. Lemongrass for him and rooibos for you, as usual.

“I still want to know about that curse,” you said when the kettle boiled.

“I can check the grimoire for you.”

“Why is there even a curse that prevents orgasms in your grimoire?” you asked with a frown. Namjoon laughed.

“I don’t know. My grandmother gave it to me, and her father gave it to her and so on. Every time a new witch gets it, they add to it. Some of my ancestors were serious weirdos though. You don’t even want to know about some of the stuff in there.”

“Apparently being a weirdo runs in the family,” you smirked.

“Seems like it. And I wouldn’t want to subject you to get information from a weirdo, so maybe I shouldn’t tell you about the curse.”

“Kidding, kidding. Please tell me.” You hated the desperate tone of your voice, but you were even more desperate than you sounded.

Namjoon laughed, the type of laugh where his mouth was open wide and his eyes were almost closed and you had to stop yourself from staring too long, again. He set down his tea and handed you yours, then walked around the kitchen counter to the bookcase on the other side.

The book he picked up was clearly heavy and bound with black leather. It looked like it was written on the same day that paper was first discovered, and you wouldn’t be surprised if that was really the case. You were sure that the only thing keeping that book together was magic.

He put it on the kitchen counter with a heavy thud and carefully paged through it.

“Here, the invidia curse. It basically means the jealousy curse. ’Only effective on females, usually placed after a lovers quarrel or by a possessive lover.’” he recited.

“Damn, witches are passive aggressive pricks, aren’t they?” you mumbled.

“Seems like it. It says here that the curse can only be broken through sex. ‘It is placed in the hopes that the woman will come back to her lover after no one else can bring her sexual pleasure.’ Basically, after no one can make her cum, she comes crawling back to the lover because they’re the only who can. The lover then decides if they want to break the curse and get their girl back, or they refuse and the woman has a shitty rest of her life.”

Your stomach dropped. Of course it would be fucked up and complicated. You didn’t know what made you think that this was going to be easy. The mere thought of it… Your blood was slowly starting to boil.

Your face must have shown your disgust because Namjoon asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, trying to clear it. “What else does it say?”

“Not much really. It just gives instructions on how to place the curse and how to break it. I don’t even want to know why my grandmother needed this information,” Namjoon sounded amused, but you were far from amused.

“Well I’m sure hoping she didn’t need it because someone decided to put this fucking curse on her, because it’s one fucked up curse. I can’t believe someone would actually do this to a woman. And to think, this was probably done by a person she trusted. Unbe-fucking-lievable.” You threw your arms in the air and Namjoon ducked.

He looked at you with wide eyes, surprised by your outburst. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked carefully. You blinked at him, caught off guard by his soft voice. A sigh left your lips and you averted your gaze, slowly deflating.  

“No, I’m not okay.”

“Tell me.” again with that soft voice.

“I think Jeongguk cursed me,” you said after a few moments of silence. You hated how weak your voice sounded and cleared your throat. Namjoon closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I wasn’t until now.”

“What made you think you were cursed in the first place?”

“I didn’t, at first, I thought it was just my body hating me. Then I read about this curse in one of Tae’s books. It didn’t go into much detail though. And I mean, we both know how possessive Gguk was over me.” You sighed deeply. “I mean it makes sense, doesn’t it? We ended on bad terms and he was always jealous. And if there’s one witch who’s passive aggressive enough to do this, it’s him.”

“Yeah. It makes sense.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. His lips were pursed together tightly, which made his dimples appear. You averted your gaze and pointedly ignored the butterflies in your stomach.

The silence filled the room for a few moments as both of you were lost in thought. Namjoon stared at the book like it would start belting out the answers. You stared at him like he would do the same.

“Can you – is there a way to break it… without Jeongguk?” you asked carefully, almost afraid to hear the answer. You didn’t want to think about what you would do if you had to go crawling back to him and beg him to break this fucked up, infernal curse.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon said slowly, “It doesn’t say that the person to break the curse has to be the same person who placed it. I’m not sure, though. Even if that was the case, you’d still need to fuck a witch.”

You hopped onto the counter next to the book, sipping your tea now that it’s finally cooled down.

“Honestly, as long as I don’t have to fuck Jeongguk, I don’t care. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Namjoon closed the book and carefully placed it back onto the bookcase. “We’ll figure it out, I promise. I’ll talk to Yoongi.”

You groaned.

“Do you have to tell Yoongi? He’ll never let me live this down.”

“He will. This isn’t just some stupid prank, Y/n, it’s an actual fucking curse. Yoongi will get that. Besides, he knows more about curses and rituals than I do.”

“Because you’re just a little cook,” you said in a mocking tone, flashing him a cheeky smile. He narrowed his eyes.

“Take that back or talk to Yoongi yourself,” he threatened. You laughed.

“Alright, I take it back. You’re a master potion brewer.”

“Thank you.”

He flashed you a dazzling smile and you didn’t stare at his dimples or how his white hair fell into his eyes.

23:54 Joonie: I talked to Yoongi. It doesn’t have to be Jeongguk Joonie: Still sounds like sex is the only option tho

23:55 Joonie: I’m trying to get around it but I’m hitting dead ends

23:59 You: Thank god. I was so scared that it was gonna have to be him You: Don’t worry about it too much. Go to bed I’ll come over tomorrow

00:01 Joonie: So was I Joonie: And don’t tell me what to do when you’re awake too

00:01 You: I’m going to bed now

00:03 Joonie: Okay Joonie: If you want rooibos tomorrow you’ll have to pick some up tho cuz I’m out  

00:04 Joonie: Good night Y/n

00:04 You: Okay You: Night Joonie You: Love you

00:06 Joonie: I love you too

When you entered the apartment the next day, you were surprised to find the place quiet and… normal. No strange mist and no funky smells. You soon discovered why the apartment was strangely non-weird.

Namjoon was laying on his stomach in the living room, surrounded by books. He clearly took the day to read instead of brewing strange concoctions.

“Fifty Shades keep you up again?” you said and plopped yourself onto the couch. Namjoon didn’t even turn his head to acknowledge you.

“A Master’s Guide to Ritualistic Curebreaking, actually,” he corrected, “I’m trying to figure out if there’s another way to break the curse. I’m thinking that if you can create a curse, you can create a way to break one too.”

“Smart thinking. How long will that take?” You didn’t mean to sound so snappy, but you’d had another fruitless night last night and you were beyond the point of sexually frustrated by now.

Namjoon put down the book and gave you sympathetic look.

“I don’t know. Anywhere from a few days to a few years,” he said hesitantly and your eyes nearly bulged out of your skull.

“Years? Did you say years? Namjoon, I don’t have years. I barely even have days. I’m on the brink of actually losing my goddamn mind. I haven’t had an orgasm in four months. Can you imagine not getting to cum for months?”

Again, you didn’t mean to snap at him, but… years? You took a deep breath and dropped your head in your hands, slowly deflating.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, but the only to break the curse at this point is to have sex –”

“Then let’s,” you cut him off. The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret them.

Namjoon stared at you like you grew a second head. “But – but you said you didn’t want that?” he stammered out. You sighed. He had a tendency to listen with his dickhole.

“I said I didn’t care as long as it wasn’t Jeongguk,” you explained.

“Oh,” was his only answer. You sighed again, feeling defeated. A fresh wave of disappointment at Jeongguk flooded you. He caused this. You were in this mess because of his pettiness and now you had to grovel for witch dick.

“Listen, if you don’t want to, I get it. I can ask someone else. But… I want it to be you, Joon.” You avoided his gaze as you said the last part. It felt too meaningful. More than you intended.

You couldn’t bring yourself to fully regret that either.

Namjoon got up off the floor and sat down next to you. His ears were slightly tinted red and his eyes had an unusual softness to them, nestled between all that wisdom. You followed your usual rule and didn’t dwell on it.

“I don’t mind. Trust me, if there’s one thing I don’t mind doing, it’s this. But… are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes. God yes. I trust you with my life, you’re probably one of the sexiest people I’ve ever seen, we’ve been friends forever and I love you,” you listed on your fingers, “so of course I’m okay with this.” More than okay.

Namjoon smiled his dashing smile. It had a playful edge to it and it finally sunk in what you were asking for.

“You think I’m sexy?” he asked, amused. You felt a blush creeping onto your face, and you cursed yourself for looking away.

“Well yeah, I’m not blind.” He chuckled.

“Alright. When do you want to do this?”

“God, as soon as possible,” you breathed out.

“That thirsty, huh?”

“Four months, Namjoon.” He laughed again. You didn’t catch the dark look in his eyes, nor the purple light that flashed through them.

He leaned in closer to you and you instinctively looked up at him. He was smirking, looking at you with meaning. His arms braced themselves against the back of the couch, successfully caging you in.

You swallowed. “What are you doing?” you barely heard yourself over your own heartbeat. He was so close, he could give you what you wanted – you needed so badly.

“As soon as possible,” he repeated your words, voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it. His breath fanned over your face. He smelled like lavender and mint and a blend of other delicious herbs. Your face turned upward, lip caught between your teeth. He leaned down, still looking into your eyes, lips so close to yours you could almost, almost feel them –

He stood up off the couch.

“I have a few things I need to do before we can break the curse,” he said, voice still a few octaves lower than usual, “You should go home in the meantime. Maybe get some sleep.”

You could have sworn there was an edge of cockiness in that last sentence, but you couldn’t be sure.

“Okay. What do we have to do?”

“You don’t have to do anything. I’m going to pull an orgasm out of you.”

“Are you sure you can handle that?” you teased and he raised his eyebrows.

“You have no idea what you got yourself into, do you?” you laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek before you left.

He was right, though. You had no clue what you had gotten yourself into.

You’d be lying if you told yourself that you weren’t nervous. You stood in front of Namjoon’s door with the keys in your hand, frozen in front of the lock. A strangely sweet smell poured through the cracks.

You weren’t afraid of having sex with Namjoon. The thought had crossed your mind before and you’ve gotten off to the idea more times that you’d like to admit, so Namjoon wasn’t the problem.

You were scared that it wouldn’t work. You were terrified that you’d have to go back to Jeongguk and beg the smug fucker to break the curse.

But Namjoon knew what he was doing, and you trusted him.

You opened the door and stopped in your tracks.

Namjoon stood in the middle of the living room amidst a sea of candles. There were blankets and lots of pillows thrown on the floor to create a makeshift bed. The room smelled sweet, like strawberries and chocolate and pulsed with what you knew was magic.

But what made your jaw drop was Namjoon himself. He had grey sweatpants slung low on his hips and no shirt. The candles made his tan skin look like gold and his white hair glow like a halo. He stood next to the cupboard, mixing something in a bottle. His eyes were shining brightly, irises turned purple.

“Oh, my God,” you whispered.

“I’m flattered, but just Namjoon will do,” Namjoon said and turned to you with a smirk on his lips. A blush formed on your cheeks and you looked away. Namjoon laughed.

“Come here,” he said and you obliged, swallowing heavily. “Relax, Y/n, I won’t hurt you.”

Namjoon ran his hands up and down your bare arms and goose bumps formed on your body. You finally looked up at him, taking in those glowing purple eyes.

“I know,” you said.

“Let’s just talk for a moment okay?”

“Okay.”

He smiled at you then. No cockiness, no teasing, just a genuine, dimpled, Namjoon smile. The comfort it brought you was more than you’d like to admit, but it was nothing new.

“Are you sure this will work?” you asked. Namjoon nodded with complete confidence, and that brought you even more comfort.

“Yes, but Y/n, this will probably be then most intense fuck of your entire life. If I do get you to come, it’s going to be more intense than ever before,” he explained. You smiled coyly.

“You’re not the first man who promised me that, you know? No one’s ever been able to keep that promise,” you teased.

“Well, you’ve never had sex with me before.”

“Oh, now you just sound overly cocky, Joon.”

Namjoon laughed and shook his head. The candlelight perfectly highlighted the hair that fell into his eyes and you couldn’t help but bite your lip. He was gorgeous with his golden skin and broad chest. You couldn’t look away, but he was cheating. How could you look away when those glowing eyes held you captive like that?

“I’m serious, you know. I’m going to have to push you to the very edge, until it’s almost too far before you come,” he said after a few moments of silence, more serious this time. You nod.

“I know.”

You took another moment to observe the room. The couch was moved against the wall to create more space. The entire floor was covered with blankets and pillows and candles. Lots and lots of candles, all different colours and shapes and sizes.

It was beautiful.

“How are we going to keep the place from burning down?” you asked and looked back at him.

“With magic.”

As the words left his mouth, every candle in the room flared, causing the room to brighten for only a moment. You gasped, both from shock and amazement.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over that,” you said and Namjoon smiled and shook his head.

“Here,” he said and handed you a glass with a glowing pink liquid, “drink this.”

You took it and stared at the contents. “What is it?”

“A strong aphrodisiac.”

“What’s it made of?” you asked with your nose scrunched up. He was a potion maker, and he used weird stuff to make them, sometimes. You’d once unwittingly drunk werewolf saliva, and you were not about to repeat that same mistake.

Namjoon laughed at the face you made, obviously recalling the same memory.

“It’s a mixture of strawberry dust, fairy wings and moon water. Nothing too weird.”

Fairy wings? You stared at him with wide eyes.

“Just… before you drink it, when I say ‘strong,’ I mean really, really strong. You’re not going to want to stop after you drink this, so you need to be sure.”

You smiled at him, all thoughts of fairies leaving your mind. His eyes searched yours, and you reached up to touch his cheek. “I trust you.”

You downed the glass in one go. It tasted surprisingly sweet, like strawberries and chocolate and something else you couldn’t quite place. You handed the glass back to Namjoon and he took it. You waited expectantly, but you didn’t feel any different.

“Are you sure this- ah –” you gasped loudly, cutting yourself off.

Turned on wasn’t the right words to describe the feeling that flooded your bones. You felt ridiculously fucking horny. You looked at Namjoon with hooded eyes and your mouth hanging open.

“Yes,” he said, and bit his lip, “I’m sure it works.”

He ran his hands up your upper arm again and a shiver went down your spine. You reached for him and tried to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge. Instead, he pulled you along with him toward the makeshift bed on the floor.

“Come on, Y/n,” he whispered.

God, you wanted to devour him. You wanted him to devour you. You licked your lips and let him lead you forward.

As soon as he sat down, you pounced on him. Legs on either side of his hips, you gripped his hair and kissed him as hard you could. You needed him. You’ve never needed anything more in your entire life than you needed Namjoon at this moment.

His lips were soft, softer than you thought they were going to be. And he tasted so good. You couldn’t get enough. You didn’t know how you had gotten this far in life without tasting him, but now that you did you knew you didn’t ever want to stop.

Namjoon rested his hands on your hips and kissed you back. He let you take the reigns for now, let you have your way with him for now. He needed to make you cum, but he had all night to do it. For now, though, he was content with having you on his lap.

Namjoon pulled away and leaned his head back, trying to catch his breath. Taking your lips off of him didn’t sit well with you, though, and you went for his neck. He groaned softly when you sucked on a sensitive little spot where his shoulder met his neck, and you sucked harder. You wanted him to make that noise again.

You lowered your hips onto him and a soft noise escaped you when you felt that he was already half hard. You were sopping wet already, it was almost embarrassing, but you blamed the potion he fed you. You slowly started to grind down, still ravishing his neck, and the feeling of his cock hardening against you drove you insane.

You went faster, sucked harder. You needed more.

“Slow down, Y/n,” Namjoon said softly and laid his hand on the small of your back. You whined into his neck, licking every part your tongue could reach before harshly sucking again.

“Y/n, we don’t want you tiring yourself out.” Namjoon’s voice was rough and it just turned you on more. You nipped his neck. You wanted to ravage him.

“Baby,” he said sternly and gripped your hips so tight it was almost painful. You finally stopped and bit your lip. Why did that turn on you on?

You looked at him with hooded eyes. His neck was already sporting angry purple marks all over, and you couldn’t help the possessive pride that flooded your chest.

“Good girl.” God, you nearly melted on the spot. No one’s ever called you that before, and you didn’t think you’d be that into it. Maybe it was Namjoon’s voice or the word itself or a mixture of both, but god you wanted him to say it again.

“Lay down for me.” Namjoon instructed.

You did as he said, albeit reluctantly. You swung your leg over him and lay down on the mess of pillows on the floor. You’d thought that it would have been uncomfortable, but it was surprisingly not. Magic, you guessed.

Namjoon looked you up and down with dark eyes and bit his lip. The look nearly made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“You look beautiful, baby,” he said, and you swallowed. He looked beautiful. Godlike, even. God, you needed him to touch you.

“Touch me,” you pleaded. Namjoon smirked, but did as you asked. He must have known that you were really on the brink of insanity at this point.

He laid a finger just under the swell of your breast and dragged it down, down, down until it reached the top of your leggings. Your breath hitched in anticipation. He hand lingered and his eyes searched your face. He bit his plump bottom lip again and god, you were just about to rip his clothes off and fuck him yourself.

Then he finally, finally dipped his hand into your pants.

You gasped when his finger brushed over your lower lips. He raised an eyebrow and smirked and his dimples made an appearance again.

“This wet already, baby?” he asked. You whimpered. At the teasing words and the fact that he was barely even touching you. You needed him, god damn it.

“Namjoon, touch me,” you demanded and Namjoon chuckled and removed his hand.

You nearly started crying.

“Let’s take these off, okay?” Namjoon said and you nodded your head rapidly. He pulled your leggings and panties down in one go. You weren’t even mad that he didn’t pay attention to your favourite black lace panties.

Namjoon settled himself between your legs and stared at your drenched pussy like he wanted to ravage it. The sight of him nearly punched the air from your lungs.

“So pretty, baby,” he whispered. God, his voice.

When his finger finally came into contact with your throbbing clit, pleasure shot through your body like electricity. You whimpered, and Namjoon licked his lips at the sight. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip as he rubbed tight circles over the sensitive little nub. His hand moved faster and your hips bucked up into his hand over and over.

“Keep still,” Namjoon said, and you did your best to obey him, but your body moved at its own accord. "Keep still, baby.”

“Tuh- trying…” you forced out. Namjoon grinned down at you, eyes still shining that dark purple hue.

“Such a squirmy girl.”

You whimpered. Your body was wound tight already and you’d only just begun.

“Wanna eat you up,” Namjoon said in a husky voice and your eyes rolled back in your head at the words and his magic fucking fingers.

“Please,” you begged. Just the thought of him putting his tongue on you already had you squirming more.

“You want me to?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“Alright, anything for you,” he said, “but you have to look at me, okay?”

You nodded and opened your eyes, catching his hot gaze.

“Good girl.” Those words again. You felt like you were going to melt, you were so hot.

Never breaking eye contact, Namjoon leaned down, hooked his arms around your thighs and pulled them apart. His breath fanned over your wetness and you shivered. He licked his lips, tongue almost brushing over you and you gasped. The anticipation was eating you up on the inside.

Then he dipped his head and ran his tongue over your clit. You moaned loudly and arched your back. His gaze was intense and you couldn’t break away even if you tried.

He licked a few more stripes over your clit before sucking on it. Your breathing hitched, a whimper escaped your throat. The feeling made your body pull tight as a bowstring. You gripped his hair as he happily alternated between sucking and licking. He never broke eye contact, and that made the feeling all the more intense.

You nearly cried when Namjoon sneakily slipped a finger into your leaking hole. Your hips bucked up into Namjoon’s face and he gave you a stern look. He pinned your hips down with his free hand and you don’t know why that turned you on so much.

You gripped his hair tighter, your other hand white knuckling the blanket. You needed to come. You felt like you should have already came. You whined loudly and your legs closed around his head.

Namjoon pulled away.

“No!” the word escaped your throat before you could stop it. Namjoon licked his shiny lips and you whimpered at the sight. His lips, cheeks and chin shone with your wetness in the candlelight.

“Sorry, baby. I know you wanna come,” he said, “but you have to wait for a while longer, okay?”

“I don’t wanna wait. I wanna come now. Wanna come on your tongue.”

Namjoon’s eyes flashed at the words. God knows, he wanted that too, but he needed to fuck you before that could happen, and that would leave you both exhausted. He made a mental note to do it in the morning, though.

“I know baby, but how about I make you come on my dick instead?” he asked. You bit your lip and nodded. The thought made you squirm with impatience.

“Please,” you said. Namjoon smirked.

“Such good manners, baby. Asking so nicely for my cock.” You mewled at that. You were thoroughly convinced that Namjoon was trying to kill you.

He slid his fingers under your t-shirt and over your bra, gently squeezing your tits, before pulling back and gripping the hem of your shirt.

“Sit up.” You did as he said and he pulled the shirt off. He stared you up and down, eyes lingering on your lacy bra, and bit his still shiny lip. “So pretty for me.”

He leaned closer and ran his tongue over your lace-covered nipple. Your back arched and you gripped his hair, pulling him closer.

“Just for me,” he said under his breath. He made you feel owned in all the best ways, and you were living for how he worshipped your body.

He unhooked your bra a few moments later and threw it with the rest of your clothes. Then he leaned in and kissed you. Slowly. Languidly. Messily. You tasted yourself on his tongue.

You tried to speed up the pace, but he gripped your cheeks in one hand, forcing your lips to pucker, and kept kissing you. The movement was small, but it made it clear that he was in control, not you. God, why did that make it better?

“Tongue out,” he said after he pulled away. You didn’t question him.

As soon as you stuck out your tongue, Namjoon took it into his mouth and sucked on it. You gasped in surprise at the strange sensation, but soon melted into it. The feeling sent heat to your core, and when he pulled away, the drool that dripped down your chin made it even better.

“Joon…” you whispered just for the sake of saying his name. Just to ground yourself. You were lost in the haze of pleasure among a sea of candles.

“Right here, baby. You wanna have my cock?” His voice sent shivers down your spine, it was so deep.

“Yes, please.”

Namjoon nodded and shimmied out of his pants. His movements weren’t graceful, but you barely gave a fuck. You just wanted him inside of you.

When his sweatpants joined the pile of clothes, he settled himself between your legs again and leaned down, bracing his arms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in.

“You ready baby?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you said almost too quickly.

Namjoon lined his cock up with your entrance and pushed forward. You gasped when you felt the head breach your entrance, slowly. Too slowly.

And then he thrust inside in one smooth motion and you made a noise somewhere between a moan and a scream.

Big, was the first word that went through your mind. Full, was the second.  Namjoon was bigger than you thought he would be, bigger than you’ve ever had, in fact. You should have paid attention and looked at him so that you knew what to expect.

He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust. You wished he hadn’t. You just wanted him to move, you needed to come.

“You good, baby.”

“Move,” you begged. Namjoon smirked and did as you said. He moved slowly, pulling out until just the head of his cock was inside of you, before slowly pushing back in.

And then he gradually picked up the pace.

You fingers were laced in his hair, eyes locked onto his. He made these small noises in the back of his throat; grunts, growls, soft little moans. They pushed you toward the edge as much as his thick cock did.

Soon Namjoon was pounding into you at a ruthless pace and you couldn’t contain your moans by biting your lip anymore. Namjoon’s mouth was on your tits, sucking and biting the soft flesh, teasing your nipples. He kissed up your neck and bit the flesh there.

You felt like you were going to explode when you felt his finger start rubbing your clit.

He was so thick inside of you. You felt so full, you could feel him in your guts. Every thrust against your g-spot pushed you closer to the edge.

You felt close to coming, closer than you ever felt in these past few months.

“Joon, I wanna – wanna come. Please, please,”

“I know baby. Can you hold out? Just for a little bit more?” His fucking voice.

“No, no no no no, please I wanna come now, please, Joonie.” You were so frustrated and ridiculously turned on that you started to cry.

“Just wait a bit more, then you can come as many times as you want, yeah?” he gently kissed the tears on your cheeks away.

“Wanna – wanna, please!”

Namjoon was still stuffing you full with his fat cock, and you were beyond delirious at this point. You wanted to come so badly, your body was so tense. You were just on the brink, your orgasm was right fucking there, a millimetre out of reach. You could practically feel it in your stomach.

The tension was getting too much. You felt like you were going to pop a vein or snap a muscle somewhere in your body, it was wound up so tight.

God, it was right there.

You kept begging. It was all you could do, body unable to respond while Namjoon fucked you full, rubbed your clit, mouthed along your neck and breasts and ears. His was hitting every place that sent happy hormones to your head and it was driving you insane.

“You’re doing so good, baby. You’re doing so good. Almost there, okay kitty? Almost there…”

Namjoon said he needed to push you until the edge for everything to work. You were on that edge. You felt like you were on that edge. God, you couldn’t take it anymore. Your body kept winding, the pleasure kept building and building and fuck, there was no end to it. It was almost painful.

But it felt so good.

“Are you ready baby? Are you ready to come on my cock?” Namjoon rasped into your ear and you nodded so rapidly, you nearly head-butted him. He chuckled and you could tell that some part of him enjoyed seeing you like this.

“Please, fuck, fuck, Joonie, please, please!”

A few more thrusts into your g-spot, rubs on your clit, a bite on your nipple.

Then Namjoon whispered strange words into your ear, the candles flared and engulfed the entire room in light and–  

Your orgasm ripped through you so suddenly and intensely that you doubled over and curled into yourself. You could barely hear Namjoon moaning over the blood roaring in your ears. Your entire body convulsed as if you were electrocuted, but instead of electricity, it was pure, undiluted pleasure ripping through your body.

You were on fire in the best way possible. Every nerve ending seemed alight. You were screaming something, but you didn’t know what.

Slowly the tension started seeping out of your body. You stopped convulsing and your muscles slightly twitched instead. Your body relaxed and you collapsed onto the bed completely.

You were spent. Sweat was dripping onto the sheets and your hair was wet from it.

You opened your eyes to find Namjoon sitting on his knees between your still open legs. His head was hanging and his body looked about as spent as yours.

“Joonie,” you croaked, your voice hoarse from whatever you were screaming. He took a moment to react, mind clearly as fogged up as yours.

You took the moment to take in his appearance. His body glistened in the candlelight, sweat dripping from his forehead. His skin seemed to glow like it was made from gold, except for the angry red marks running up and down his arms and around his waist, onto his back. His muscles were still wound tight, showing off exactly how well built he really was.

“I’m good, jus’ gimme a sec,” he sounded just a wrecked.

You forced yourself upright despite your lame muscles. God, that orgasm was like every orgasm you would have had, combined. The most intense thing you’ve ever experienced.

And you’d loved every second of it.

You reached out and gently placed your hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. He looked up at you with hooded eyes, panting heavily. His eyes were still glowing bright purple from the magic. You smiled weakly and he smiled back.

“You kept your promise, apparently.”

He chuckled breathlessly and turned his body to collapse onto the pillow.

“Don’t give me all the credit. The spell helped,” he mumbled. You lied down next to him, facing him.

“I’m giving you most of the credit. That was the best fuck I’ve ever had in my entire life, including myself. And that says a lot.”

Namjoon smiled softly and put his hand on your hip, pulling you closer. “I’m glad, baby.”

You closed your eyes, the exhaustion of the night finally creeping up on you, along with the cold bite of the night air.

“Joonie?” You asked.

“Yeah?”

“Can I… can you hold me?” you didn’t mean for the words to come out as softly as they did. He smiled with his dimples on full display and opened his arms for you. You shuffled closer to Namjoon until his warmth engulfed you entirely, and sighed in satisfaction. The smell of lavender and mint wrapped around you like a blanket.

He snapped his fingers and all the candles in the room were snuffed out at once.

You started to drift into sleep within moments. Your conscious and subconscious intertwined, and when the words “I love you” reached your ears, you weren’t sure if it was a dream or reality.

You let the words warm your heart either way.

[sunflowerkiwi93]

Now That We’re Done - HS

This is a fic I've been working on for some time now.  It's actually the 'sequel' to a fic I wrote a while ago, and something inspired me to keep going.  I intend to post both, but wanted the story to begin this way :)

Warnings: There are mentions of abuse, PTSD, and anxiety throughout every part.  Also- mature content. One of the guys doesn't turn out to be so great- this story is not intended to give him this image.  This is all purely fiction.

Summary: A twenty year old dancer, Elizabeth Payne, is recovering from a traumatic past with the help of her older brother, Liam. The two of them have been yearning for peace for quite some time, and when a good friend comes to live with them for the summer they start their journey towards finding it.  Through ups, downs, relapses, and two albums- Liz fights through her own mind to get better.

Part One

I sat on the couch alone, cold.  I shivered and pulled my jacket tighter around myself.  Looking to my left I saw picture frames on the side table full of pictures of myself and old friends.  I glanced away quickly, my heart beginning to ache.  Looking to my shoes, then to the ceiling, I groaned and quickly stood to my feet.

“Let’s go!” I called, getting out of that living room.  I made my way to the bottom of the stairs listening for footsteps.  “Elizabeth!” I called again.

“Liam!” She mocked me, plummeting down those stairs like she used to.  She landed at the bottom and watched me watch her.  “What?” She asked.

I looked her up and down.  My baby sister.  Twenty years old.  The last time she was in this house she was eighteen and in love, with long brown hair past her shoulders and a smile that couldn’t be replaced.  She was her own boss and didn’t take shit from anyone, not even me.  God, she used to hate herself for that after what happened.  Running my hands through my hair, I sighed and shrugged.

“Memories,” I said flatly.

“Ugh, you’re gross,” She rolled her eyes, “Are we going?” She motioned at the door.  I nodded and she started for it.  Her hair was short now, hidden under a beanie hat.  She wore sweaters in the summer and talked to her therapist on the phone twice a week.  Wednesday and Saturday.  Her sunglasses were always dark and she only talked to me, our parents and one other person.  She got to the door, put her hand on the knob and looked at me.

“Liam?” She asked.

“Liz?” I answered.

“Can you go first?” She whispered.  

This was normal for her.  Media blew her up once they all found out.  All the stories made me absolutely sick.  Her phone was shut off for two months because she couldn’t handle it.  Her Twitter was deleted and she had to make a new private Instagram.  Since July sixth, two years ago, she hasn’t left my side and there is not one part of me that wants to leave her alone.

“Come here,” I stood next to her, put her hood on over her hat and my arm around her shoulder, “The car is right down the stairs, okay?” She nodded, “Don’t you dare listen to one word anyone says.”

I pushed the door open and instantly we were both being shouted at, flashes going off like mad.  Elizabeth kept her eyes down, but she clung to me tight.  My guard opened the back door for us while pushing paps away.  We slid in and the door slammed shut.

“Oh my god,” Elizabeth gasped, throwing her head into her lap, “OH my god.” She began to cry.

“Hey,” I laid my hand on her back and rubbed in circles.  She sat back up and pulled her hat off along with her sweatshirt.  She wore a dark blue tank top.  Looking at me, her cheeks were red and eyes swollen.  I wiped away tears with my thumb.  “I’m so proud of you.”

“Why?” Her voice shook.

“Because,” I started, “You went into that house yourself.”

“You were with me, Li.”

“Yeah, I was.  But you wanted to go.  You asked me to go, and for that I am proud.” She bit her lip and smiled, resting her head onto my shoulder.

Days with my sister and I were always led by her and what she wanted to do.  Asking her what she wanted to do today, she wanted to visit the house my old bandmates and I lived in for a few years.  I hadn’t been there in years.  The last time I had actually been in that house was April, when I left with everyone to go do a tour in the US.  Liz was with us then, she and a good friend of hers were staying with us.  When the tour was cut short after July, Elizabeth and I both went straight to our parents home.  My old label had everything personal packed in the house and sent back to us.  For what reason she wanted to go back to that house?  I do not know.  I just know that she wanted to go out, so I took her.

In order for no one to follow us back to my home that I had bought shortly after that month of our tour, another car like the one we were in was with us following different paths to ensure my sister and I made it home safe and alone.  It added more time to the drive than I would have liked, but it was worth the ease of mind.

Fifteen minutes into the ride, Liz was gazing out the window pointing things out to me that she saw.  It was always either a fast food place she missed, or a car she knew I liked.  I nodded along, smiling with her.  In my back pocket one of two phones vibrated and then blurted out a ringtone that I heard often.  Elizabeth whipped her head around and held out her hand.

“That’s Harry,” She said sternly.

“I know.” I got her phone and handed it to her.  The one other person she would talk to was Harry.  After the split he and I would only talk on occasion- when it was our birthdays, holidays or when Elizabeth wouldn’t answer the phone.

“Hey, Harry,” She lit up when she heard his voice.  They only talk through the phone, or FaceTime. He stops by when he can, but he’s always in the US working.  “Yes, I’m good.  I promise.  What?  I can’t hear- Oh, yes.  I’m with Liam.”  She always tells him she is with me, even though he already knows.

“We went to the Syco house, we are on our way back- Yeah, the Syco house,” She looked at me, her eyebrows lowered, “Well, there wasn’t much in there.  Harry, I hadn’t seen it in two years,” She lowered the phone holding the mic and she whispered to me in a panic, “He’s mad.” Lifting the phone to her ear again she listened.

“Harry, I wanted to see it again.” There was a long pause while she listened to him, her face flashing different emotions.  One of the early signs of one of her panic attacks.  She knew how to handle this type of feeling though, I talked to her therapist about it. “Harry!” She shouted, her eyes squeezed shut. I snatched the phone from her.

“Harry?” I said angrily.  There was a pause.

“Liam.” He answered, his voice gravely and low.

“What were you saying to her?  You’re the one person she doesn’t talk to on the speaker around me, because we both trust you.”

“I said that she shouldn’t have gone to the house.” He spoke calm and slow, his usual manner.

“Why?”

“Because that house was hell?  Liam you and I both know that house was hell.”

“Harry-“

“Liam, I didn’t tell her this.  He went there last week.” My heart sank to my stomach.  Flickering my eyes at her she was watching me with wide eager eyes.

“Okay, Harry.  Yes, we appreciate it.  Are you going to call later?  Alright, she looks forward to it.  Bye.”  Faking a conversation was easier than blurting out the truth.  I put her phone into my pocket and pulled mine out.

“He apologized, and told me that he will call you before seven,” Elizabeth smiled and looked at my phone.  I usually never have it out when I’m out with her because my main focus was always making sure she was alright, “Mind if I send someone a message?”

“No, that’s okay.” She said and turned back to look out the window with half an hour left until we got home.  I unlocked my phone, opened my messages and tapped onto Harry’s texts.  I began to type.

L- We do not talk about him being there.

I waited.  Then the three dots popped up.

H- To who?  You or Liz.

L- Liz.  Do you know why he was there?

H- No.  Heard it from this girl I worked with the other day.  Didn’t want to believe it.

L- Who was the girl? How did she know?

H- Her name was Gigi.  And I’m not sure.

L- Ok.  Hear from you at 7 when you call Liz.  Thank you Harry.

H- Anytime.

The rest of the ride home was quiet and when we arrived, I did the usual.  I stepped out of the car first, checked the scene, then let Elizabeth step out.  It made her feel better, and if she feels better so do I.

We were pulled into the long black driveway that connects my garage to the street.  Almost every bit of my house was surrounded by trees.  I bought this home with the purpose of privacy, and it’s been perfect for everything my sister and I were going through.  It was on a private street only the neighbors by me could access, and even then you couldn’t see another house in sight.  It was spacious, quiet, relaxing and the environment we needed to be in.  The house itself was only a story tall.  It had four bedrooms, one of which I turned into a home studio to work on music in, a cozy living room with bookshelves for days and a beautiful backyard with an inground pool and plenty of patio space around it.  It certainly was not as big as the Syco house I once lived in or as glamorous as some houses celebrities live in, but my sister and I adored it and we’ve been happy here for two years.

“I’m tired,” Elizabeth mentioned as we walked inside the garage, “I might lay down.” I told her to go lay down and she went to her room.  I flopped onto my sofa and pulled out my phone.  I opened Google and searched for news on the man Harry brought up.  Curious as to why Elizabeth would want to go to the house if he was just there.  The first story that popped up was of him on the streets of NYC locking lips with a rail thin, long haired blonde.  It read their names with the title ‘Heating Things Up?’.

Opening it, I scanned the lines not caring about what he was doing until the girl's name came up again.  Sure enough her name was Gigi.  I locked my phone, slid it onto the table, stood up and took myself down the hall to knock on Elizabeth’s door.

“It’s open,” She called.

“As it should be,” I joked walking inside, “What are you doing?” She was sitting at her desk with nothing on it.  She shrugged.

“Sitting,” She said seriously.  I cracked a laugh and sat on her bed.

“Obviously,” She stared at me, “I have a question, if you don’t mind.”  Squinting her eyes she nodded.

“Why... why did you want to go to the Syco house today?” I asked quietly.  Elizabeth looked at her hands then at me.

“I wanted to feel something,” She said, “Haven’t felt anything.  In a long time.  In two years.” She stared off into space, her mind wandering.  I watched her closely as her eyes danced around her room in her mirror, and then she frowned.

“Elizabeth,” I said, raising my voice a little to regain her attention.  She snapped out of it and looked at me.

“What were we saying?” She asked, “Oh, Syco house.”

“What did you want to feel?” I asked.

“Something.  Anything,” She muttered.  “I don’t even know what’s happening with the world.  I don’t go on my phone.”

“No,” I shook my head answering her quickly, “Kens says you can have it when someone calls.”

“Then let me call Ken's myself,” She raised her eyebrows. “I need new rules.  Liam!” She held out her hand and I sighed.  I felt both my pockets and found nothing.

“Use mine, it’s on the coffee table.”

She bolted for the living room and snatched my phone.  I heard the buttons click and the phone unlock, then I heard a thud on the floor a few seconds later.  Leaving her bedroom, I found her staring at my phone on the ground at the story of him that I forgot to close out of.  Her face was straight as she stared.  Then she looked up at me.  I couldn’t make out any words to say.  She hadn’t seen anything or heard anything of or about him in a very long time.  She bent down and picked the phone up, exiting the screen.  I saw her go to my contacts, find Kens’ number, her therapist, and call.

“Hi, Kens.  Yeah, it’s me.  I just went on the internet for the first time.”

-

It was easy to understand why anxiety made you hide, why it made you feel small and stuck.  It was difficult for Liam to understand opposite action, which meant doing exactly what anxiety was telling you not to do.  After my conversation with Kens I realized that if I wanted to get out of feeling like I was stuck in a hole, I had to do just that.

Liam agreed to take me out, which he did quickly after learning what opposite action was, after I mustered up the courage myself to ask him.  Setting his phone down on the coffee table I looked to my brother and nodded.

“We’re going to do this, yes?” I asked.  He lowered his eyebrows and squinted his eyes at me.

“We’re going to feel alive,” He said seriously with some humor behind it.  I smiled and stood up, heading towards my room.  Liam called after me, “And for as long as you need.  I’ll be out here on the phone Kens.”

When I started living with my brother back when, I never knew he and I would end up here.  I had envisioned that I’d be dancing my way through life, literally, and be in an amazing relationship with someone I truly loved.  Liam would still be making music with his band and maybe he and I would eventually be working together merging our talents.  Instead, I live with him somewhere his fans can’t find him and we work together on my therapy while he still works with the media.  I never liked the paparazzi.  Not even when I was living in the Syco house, living the dream for a few months.  

After then the headlines were horrific, my name caught up in something I wish I could erase from my memory, but Kens says it is important to have because she says look at how I’m starting to grow from it.  I can never see what she’s talking about when I’m stuck in a low.  I only see why what happened to me happened, but once I’m feeling okay I understand.

I sat down in front of my mirror and took a deep breath down into my stomach.  My makeup hadn’t been touched in months.  It was still set up from when Liam had helped me clean up from a panic attack weeks ago.  Brushes went flying, it wasn’t pretty.

I put my cold hands over my pale cheeks and groaned.  I wasn’t sure if I even remembered how to properly put on a simple face of makeup.  I dabbed some concealer under my eyes and brushed on some bronzer and mascara.

I changed into some ripped blue jeans, a lavender sweater that fell just off my shoulder and a pair of black slides.  My red hair I pulled back with a braid in the front and a little ponytail in the back.  It was not as long as it used to be.  I had to cut a whole lot off after it thinned out extremely from stress.  That was a heartbreaking moment for someone like me who used her hair as a personality trait.  Liam sat beside me the entire time it got done and had even helped which shade of red to color it.  I’m his own special mix of chocolate cherry.

Stepping out of my room an hour after speaking to Liam I found him patiently sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone.  His head popped up after he heard my door close, and his jaw fell open.

“Well, look at you!” He gushed.

“Ugh, Liam, don’t,” I forced back a smile, but it peeked through as I walked over to him.

“You look great,” He said standing up offering me a hand, “Shall we?”

I took his hand and laughed.

“We shall!”

-

Elizabeth and I had a quick, fun evening out.  My driver drove us around the small town outside where my home is, where some paparazzi can be found but also some amazing restaurants.  I kept my hand sat on top of hers in the car and thought about the conversation I just had with Kens about accepting this decision my sister made about her recovery.  Kens told me I need to make some new boundaries as Liz starts to grow with her treatment.  Eventually she would want her phone back and that’s the only problem I had.  

For nearly a year after it happened I was the only one on her phone.  I deleted messages, incoming and outgoing.  I deactivated Twitter and created a new Instagram for her.  I told Kens I was not ready for her to be back on Twitter, and she agreed with me.  She said she will not allow Liz back onto social media full time until she knows she will be okay reading what she’ll be reading.

Looking at her beside me in the car she was gazing out the window, a soft smile on her face again, but her right knee was beginning to bounce a bit.  Kens told me to watch for that as a sign of her anxiety being present.  I squeezed her hand and she turned to look at me.

“You okay?” I asked calmly.  She took a deep breath and nodded.

“I’m okay.  Excited and nervous.  But okay,” She smiled and I returned it to her.

We pulled up along an Italian restaurant she used to love and she gasped so loud I thought I was going to jump out of my pants.  It didn’t seem too busy for a Thursday night, so we decided it would be alright for us to stay.  As usual I got out of the car first and held her hand as she slowly took her time to step out and watched as she looked all around.  I noticed that some people realized who I was, and then saw their reaction when they realized who I was with.  A girl shouted out her name and Liz jumped in her shoes slightly and latched onto my arm.

“You’re doing great,” I said to her quietly as we walked towards the doors, “They’re looking excited to see you.” She let out a breathy laugh the moment we stepped inside.  She let go of me and shook her hands and stretched out her arms.

“My heart is beating like a drum,” She whispered, bouncing on her toes.

There was some commotion outside, some louder voices, and Liz and I both turned to look through the windows.  Sure enough there were two paparazzi with camera lenses nearly pressed against the glass.  Liz’s eyes went wide so I quickly turned her away and asked for our table.

We sat in an empty section of the dining room which was perfect for us both as we can be quite loud together.  We always knew how to make our own party.

During dinner it was extremely easy to forget the world and I can only hope Elizabeth felt the same exact way.  Our conversation drifted from shopping for some new clothes for her, to when I auditioned for X-Factor, to some old family vacations we took during the summers.  We sat in front of our empty plates and I looked at her curiously.

“Do you have any plans for the rest of this summer?” I asked.  She blew a raspberry on her lips and sighed.

“We can do this every night,” She giggled, “Although...” Her words trailed off as did her eyes.  I held my focus on her and then shook the ice in my glass around before taking a sip to help bring her back.

“Although?” I questioned between sips of cool water.

“I want to see Harry,” She said and looked me right in the eyes.

“I don’t have a problem with-“

“I know you don’t,” She cut me off quickly not breaking her eye contact, “It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen him.” Her voice turned to a whisper.  I watched her as she explained to me how great I’ve been with helping her, and how she loves me very much but that she needs to have a friend by her side, too.

“You know I’m still your friend, right?” I teased her and she rolled her eyes.

“You know what I mean!” She groaned.

“Yes, I do,” I laughed, “I’m proud of you for bringing all of this up.  For talking to me, and helping me understand.  If Harry-“ I was cut off again, but this time by that distinct ringtone.  Elizabeth fell serious and held out her hand waiting for her phone to be placed there.  Slipping it from my pocket, I smiled at her, and handed it over.

“Hi, Harry,” She breathed and listened to what he had to say, “Yes I am!  Liam’s here with me,” as always, “We came out tonight... Oh, you saw already? Where?”  I watched her talk to him every single phone call.  She became a different person who lit up with excitement and energy.  If she didn’t bring up Harry coming home to him, I was certainly sure that I was going to.

He was there afterwards, holding her, squeezing her hands.  She was folded in his lap sobbing uncontrollably, nearly screaming, and he just sat there listening to her, somehow understanding her.  He helped me through those few weeks of the hospital, then going home, then going back to the hospital.  He stayed overnight with me most nights.  Before any of this ever happened he was dating Liz’s old friend.  He tried a slick move on my sister, but she’s so strong on her feet she put him in his place.  Shortly after that night in July on tour, he was single again with no reason behind it.  I just know we don’t bring up that girl anymore or hear from her.  Eventually, once Liz and I were in my new home, he set off to do his solo music work.  But he never forgot to call.  He always called.

“Thank you, I bought it last year and had never worn it...” She glanced up at me and smiled, “Harry, I have a question for you later if I could call you when I’m home?  That’s okay?  Okay... bye.”

She hung up and handed her phone back over to me.

“Thank you for coming out with me tonight,” Liz said to me with a smile.

“Thank you for giving the best night I’ve had in awhile,” I said back to her with a small wink.

[teannamon]

Why Do You Think This Would Work? Ch1 [ Taichihaya ]

They should have known that fake dating never goes according to plan. 

In which Mashima Taichi doesn't want to be bothered by his mother's prospects anymore and Ayase Chihaya hates her sister's attempts of finding her a boyfriend.

--------------

Today was an especially stressful day for Mashima Taichi. He was supposed to clock in early from the hospital but as soon as his shift was about to end one of his patients went into cardiac arrest.

‘Ah I can never get used to emergencies like that’ he thought as he laid on his couch.

Just as he was getting comfortable, his cellphone rang which surprised him. He sat back up and picked up the phone from the coffee table next to him.

“Hello?”

“Ah Taichi, didn’t you read my texts?”

He sighed as he heard his mother, Mashima Reiko, on the other end. As tempted as he is to end the call right then and there, he wouldn’t dare get an angry visit from her instead.

“No, I had to attend to an emergency at the hospital a while ago” he explained “I just got home, what is it?”

“Well there’s a charity gala Mr. Ichido is hosting tomorrow night, maybe you could attend with your father and, you know, mingle with the people there at least”

“Why should I? I don’t have any interest in dad’s company, why aren’t you asking Rika?” he inquired, even though he has an idea of what Reiko is hinting at.

“She’s coming, that’s already a given” there was a small pause before she continued “Mr. Ichido’s daughter is coming to the gala, the one who just came back from the states, maybe you can tour her around Tokyo before she goes back after a week”

‘I knew it’ he said to himself. Ever since he graduated from Todai and immediately got a job as a doctor at the University’s same hospital, Reiko thought she wouldn’t need to worry about her son anymore.

To what she thought that her son would settle down with a woman as successful as he is, she slowly grew worried each day her son doesn’t call her to tell her about a doctor or businesswoman he’s going to marry someday. So for a year now, she’s been trying to connect him with the women in the families they’re connected with so it can ease her anxiety at least.

But Mashima Taichi has been a stubborn bastard ever since he was born.

“Not interested,” he answered coldly and Reiko just had enough of him rejecting every prospect she’s practically thrown at him.

"And why not? Again! might I add"

'This is getting really old' he rubbed his temples trying to calm himself down thinking of another half-assed excuse of not being ready. She was not yet finished talking though.

"And here I thought I can leave you alone to your devices after you've made it as a successful doctor, I can't believe you're making me worry over something you're supposed to have done a long time ago. Up until now I feel as if you’re waiting for me to push you into things that are good for you"

Now Taichi had enough, it's one thing for her to be critical of him being the best but for her to basically call him a dependent idiot is another thing.

"Well haven't you considered that maybe I am dating someone already without your approval?!"

She was taken aback and a million thoughts ran through her head, 'When? How? Who is it? Has she met her before?' But before she could get a word in he ended the call.

"If that's all, good night mom"

After that exchange he went back to lying down on his couch when his phone rang again.

"What?!"

"Ah!" The voice on the other end was startled by his loud reply.

Chihaya nearly dropped her phone when Taichi answered it a little too loudly for her delicate ears.

“Is everything ok, Taichi? What happened?”

“Oh Chihaya, sorry about that” he sighed as he relaxed at her voice on the other end, expecting it to be from his mother.

“It’s fine but could you let me in? I’ve been knocking for the last few minutes and you weren’t answering. I even brought you Daddy Bear Ramen and Snowmaru Ice cream on the way here” she whined as she banged her fist on his apartment door one last time.

Taichi opened the door as he pocketed his phone, “Geez you really are still a kid sometimes, you know that?”

Ignoring his comment, Chihaya walked inside the apartment like she owns the place. Ever since she’s gotten the job as a teacher at Mizusawa High last year, right after getting the Queen title, she’s been in and out of his place because, (a) it's the closest place she can stay at after late nights training at the society and (b) Taichi can drive her to school the next day.

He locked the door behind him as he went to the kitchen where Chihaya most definitely headed to.

Sure enough she’s already filled the instant ramen with hot water and is putting the ice cream in his mini fridge.

“So what crazy limited edition food did you manage to grab this time?” he asked while opening his share of the ramen, looking at the silly Daddy Bear artwork plastered on it.

“If you must know, I found these two at the very back of the shelf at the nearby konbini” she gestured to the two cups of ramen on the table “Can you believe how lucky I was!”

At that instant, Taichi checked the label on the cup to make sure it wasn’t expired. “Thank god you actually checked the labels this time before buying”

“Hey! That was one time ok” she retorted.

“Yeah sure it is” he teased as he took in a mouthful of noodles.

“Keep talking like that and I won’t let you near my Snowmaru Vanilla Ice Cream!” she pointed with her chopsticks.

“Which you stored in MY freezer?”

Chihaya groaned and grumpily ate her ramen.

The rest of their dinner went by as usual, Chihaya telling him how the karuta club they started has been doing so far under her care, her school day activities, and how her training at the Shiranami Society went that night.

Taichi almost forgot about his altercation with his mother that early evening until Chihaya brought up a topic that he’s not particularly fond of but listens to anyway.

“I can’t believe she tricked me into another blind date! I was excited to see her new commercial at the mall when she actually invited me into a double date” she said, a little bit frustrated and exhausted.

Ever since she became Queen last year, she’s been the center of attention of some men in the karuta community and even those outside of it. Her sister, Chitose, then saw an opportunity to play matchmaker with her sister so she can see her have a relationship outside of karuta.

And Mashima Taichi was both scared and relieved. Scared to see Chihaya having a relationship with another person and relieved to see her mature enough to finally fully understand what romantic gestures and relationships are.

It is no secret that Taichi always bore feelings for Chihaya, everyone at Shiranami knows, all their friends from their karuta club knows, Wataya Arata knows, his sister knows, except Chihaya.

“At this point, I might just fake date with the next person she throws at me to get it over with” she half-joked while taking another scoop of her ice cream. “Then everybody is happy, right?”

He inwardly panicked, even a fake relationship is risky, especially for someone like her. They might take advantage of her and they don’t know her like he does. It's not like they can keep up with her antics and airheadedness.

Without even thinking he blurted out, “Just pretend you’re dating me then”

Chihaya stopped midway with her scoop of ice cream, and looked like she’s processing what Taichi just said.

She was silent for a while and he realized what he just said, and just as he was about to brush it off as a joke she slammed her hands on the table a little too hard it shook and spilled the melted contents of her small bowl.

“Taichi! You are a genius!”

-----------

NEXT CHAPTER

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First Chihayafuru fic, hehe... uploaded to both AO3 and FFNet, based on a random fake dating prompt I saw and I was instantly thinking “Taichihaya” so yeah here ya goo

[ourrightside]

10 Reasons Why Carrie Bradshaw Wasn’t THAT Bad...

Sex and the City is the most elite series I’ve ever watched - and I was so excited to purchase the first season when I turned 18.

I would listen to my mom and my sister gossip about the show when I was younger and feel so left out. But, my mom would refuse to let me watch it until I became an adult. Thank god.

Being an avid fan now, I sometimes scan through Sex and the City articles on the net, and can’t help but notice dozens of articles filled with ‘Carrie’ slander - which kind of makes me nervous.

Although it was true that years ago girls were labeling themselves as the ‘Carrie’, ‘Samantha’ and ‘Charlotte’ of the group - the serious and less glamorous friend got stuck with being a ‘Miranda’; it is kind of an insult now to be deemed as a Carrie. 

As we all matured, we realized that being a Miranda is amazing and we should all strive to be just as successful - but Carrie Bradshaw is still a valid character and I’m here to prove why the “sexual anthropologist” is not all that bad. 

Now before I dive into why I totally get Carrie Bradshaw, I would just like to point out before hand that I am aware that she is just a fictional character and hopefully you are too. If you are not informed, then I apologize for this harsh revelation. However, let’s continue. 

1. She was average looking

While we can all agree that her physique only gets stronger and leaner throughout the series, she was still not exactly perfect looking. Despite her fit body, she was not model like or necessarily tall. She did not have a perfect nose. She did not have the biggest ‘lady parts’. She did not have the plumiest lips. She did not have perfect facial symmetry.

But, she was okay with it. And has mentioned that by the age of 30, she was over being uncomfortable with her looks and decided to move on.

Despite constantly bumping into models and having to accept that men can be total “modelizers” - especially in the capital of the world aka manhattan, she chose to embrace her natural beauty, which in turn has allowed her to walk the runway in her underwear.

2. She was selfish 

Yes, the new trend is to be selfish and say no - because that is ‘self love’.

If that truly is the case, then there was no denying then that Carrie was selfish throughout the series.

As human beings, we are selfish by nature. But since we now identify ourselves in societies with expected norms and values, being selfish disqualifies you sometimes from your environment. To avoid being lonely, we try to let go of being selfish or at least hide our selfish traits.

Unfruitfully so, our selfish instincts at times fail us - exposing our true colors. And whenever that happens, people aren’t too afraid of pointing out what you did wrong. It doesn’t make us necessarily evil, just makes us human.

To avoid being Freudian in this post, let’s just sum up that Carrie is harmlessly selfish at times - that includes being late to every event, asking her friend Susan Sharon if she could trade in her cashmere sweater birthday gift for cash, accepting a pair of 600$ shoes from her other super rich friend, and cutting off Charlotte’s possible infertility problem discussion to talk about her Manolos.

The list goes on, I mean - this is just classic Bradshaw behavior. However, this character cannot be deemed as bad. She was just under the spotlight, and if we were under it too, we would find out that we do have these moments as well without realizing it. We are not perfect. However, Carrie does reflect on her mistakes often, which is something we should be doing more. 

Sometimes, her selfish tendencies can really get out of hand. 

It was not okay when she got angry at Charlotte who did not offer to lend her money after she blew it all off on Manolo Blahnik shoes instead of rent. It was not okay when she threw away Aiden down the drain. It was not okay when she slept with a married man, even if it was ‘Mr. Big’.

We cannot shame her though because we all have hidden skeletons in our closets...it’s up to you however to peak in and see which faults make it or break it for you. 

3. She was a working woman 

No offense to chastity ball princess Charlotte, who wanted to be a housewife to any rich man who crossed path with her, Carrie Bradshaw was by all means an ‘all star’ business woman. Despite being unconventional unlike Samantha Jones (PR executive) and Miranda Hobbes (Harvard-graduate Lawyer), Carrie Bradshaw was a restless woman that worked in multiple fields all at once despite being so undermined.

She had so many tasks to tackle all at once while juggling multiple projects. She ran around between the fields of Journalism, Content Marketing and Public Relations. She was able to get invited into all the ‘fabulous’ events and meetings because of the hard work she invested in all by herself as a freelancer who lived in a huge place like New York. Carrie finally reached her goal at the age of 40, which was working at Vogue. She even wrote multiple books as well.

4. She was unconventional

Despite the show running in the early 90s, Carrie Bradshaw decided to be a sex columnist. She never gave up on her weird unconventional job and was proud of her career despite the looks or comments people would make. She had a weird exterior in addition to how upfront she was about the physical makings of life.

In addition, Carrie did not believe in marriage until she became a fiancée at the age of 40. She traded in a ring for a pair of shoes and a walk-in closet, unlike most women, who would rather get married in their mid 20 to early 30s with a huge rock on their finger. 

5. She was struggling at adulting

Carrie Bradshaw had a deluded concept of adulting that at least most of us had or still struggle with. She was not a healthy adult with financial stability and a well thought out regime. However, she still managed to be fabulous.

She had poor dieting habits, which made her sometimes skip dinner to buy Vogue instead. She believed that shopping and gossiping were the best types of cardio. She was not the cleanest and had a messy apartment at most times. She did not care about the way her living space looked like, which she later on freaked out about in fear of being judged as an imperfect adult according to Mr Big. She paid so much on shoes that she could no longer afford her rent. She believed that investments must be seen in her closet. She drank at least six dollars worth of coffee per day. She would smoke and drink way too much for a thirty year old woman.

6. She was a good friend

Carrie Bradshaw had so many friends that it almost put her PR bestie Samantha to shame. To be honest, Carrie may have not been a perfect friend, but she was as good as it gets realistically.

What made her so realistic in her friendships was her ability to be there for most of her friends’ hardships. She had her ups and downs with her empowered female group because sometimes they would feel like she was too problematic and vice versa. For the most part, it is impossible to be as passionate to your friends as you once were the first time you guys met. But what makes a friend a good one is that they never voluntarily try to find excuses to leave you behind.

Carrie’s love towards her friends in her good and bad times showed that she valued them like family. 

7. She was lost

Carrie was probably more lost than she would have liked to be. She had a tendency to dwell on what should have been and could have been. We all have regrets and sometimes she voiced hers out more than other characters within the show. She would sometimes yearn over the years that passed by her. She even went to extremes such as dating a college boy just to remember what it was like to ‘just kiss’. Rookie Mistake, Carrie.

Just like Carrie, as time goes by at any age, we look back at the spur of events that created our timeline and take note sometimes of which events we deem as either life-changing, traumatizing or both.

8. She was experimental 

She may not have been as promiscuous as her friend Samantha, but she was unarguably adventurous in all aspects of her life. Although the most obvious aspect may have been her outfits, her wild colors and funny textural accessories were just a preview on how eccentric Carrie Bradshaw truly was. She mentioned that her younger years were a genuine pursuit of fun in every shape or form, which most twenty-something-year-olds cannot deny.

She emphasized that she fears living life as a cautious person because of the hurt she has endured. However, she truly defined throughout the show what it means to be eccentric, empowering the ones who fail the experiments of life to get back on their feet. 

9. She was flawed

Carrie Bradshaw believed in the glass half full rather than half empty throughout the series. Despite being unbearably flawed to the point where her friends no longer wanted to listen to her problems, she decided to see a shrink which is something that would have been especially socially-unacceptable in the 90s. Carrie still overcame her mental issues and found other remedies which in turn has led her into accepting the way things played out. 

As we grow up, we, like Carrie, need a little bit of help in order to realize that temporary issues will fade away into lessons and the permanent ones that are out of our control can be accessorized into our lives accordingly to the way that we want it to look like.

10. She was in love

Her love towards Mr Big was illogical - almost completely insane. But what made her character so special was the fact that she never continued her relationship with Aiden because she knew deep down that it was Mr Big all along and never gave up on it; despite all the signs that kept telling her that he was bad for her. He was at the time indeed bad news, which made her feelings towards him fluctuate between love and hate.

Now, the psychology behind her and Mr Big does not justify why you should call your ex right now so put your phone down, but it is something to think about. 

Carrie took the road not taken for most women, especially during the 90s where gender roles in love where still a bit rigid. While it is true that it is always easier to date lovers who make the effort to chase you rather than pursuing it yourself, the easiness does not create the ‘fairytale love’ that most of us strive for.

Carrie once described her love towards him as a crash rather than a crush. But if something deep down is telling you that someone is your person, shouldn’t that account for something? Shouldn’t we all just go for ‘ ridiculous, inconvenient, time-consuming can’t-live-without-each-other love’, and get it right just like she did?

- Nina xx (yasminasayyid)